


Fake people

by NightSky2004



Series: Fake People [1]
Category: White Collar
Genre: AU, Adventure, F/M, Family, Gen, Teenage Neal Caffrey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:04:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightSky2004/pseuds/NightSky2004
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fake people with fake feelings and fake emotions are all around Neal. And he has to pretend to be a fake too. 'If you don't trust anyone, they can't let you down' – is his life motto. But what if he finds people who are real? If such people even exist... Every person has his own path, but if you are a conman, there are also may be some hidden treasures on your way. AU, teen Neal, no slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who do you trust, if no one is real anymore?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello, dear readers! Recently I was re-watching “White Collar”, and in one of the episodes Peter wondered what would happen if he caught Neal earlier. Neal said that nothing would have changed, but I think it would. So, I decided to write this story. This is an AU, where Neal is only 15.  
> Hope you enjoy. And, please, leave a review if you have a minute. Thank you very much.

A seven year old boy was sitting quietly in the corner, trying not to listen to the sounds coming from the next room. This was not real. His mom and her boyfriend weren't arguing again. Suddenly the door opened and his mother came in. She was as beautiful as always, but her eyes were sparkling not with happiness, but with tears.

'Neal, sweetie. I want you to go out for a while, but make sure Charles doesn't hear you, ok? Can you do this? Please, don't worry. Everything is fine, we just need to discuss something.' she said, kissing his curly hair.

The boy nodded and quickly left the house.

Neal didn't remember much what was happening next. He remembered feeling lost and scared. Men in police uniform took away Charles. And his mother was pale and cold.

Then a nice lady, Ellen, took care of him. She was kind and Neal felt that she loved him. And he loved her. The first day he came to live with Ellen, she bought him colored pencils and that was when Neal found out that he enjoyed drawing...

Four years passed and everything was great, until one cold winter day came. Neal's teacher asked him to stay after the lesson was over and then she told him those dreadful words. And again nothing, except for the pain in the chest and a feeling that you are alone in the whole world.

After that there were a few foster homes for a year. But all those people were fake. They had awful fake smiles. But Neal didn't care. All he needed was paper and a few pencils, and then he was in his own world. Maybe it was imaginary, but at least it wasn't fake.

After a year, Neal decided that it was enough. He ran away and never came back. And most importantly, he never regretted.

The next few months were tough for Neal. Surviving on the streets of New York is hard even for an adult, not to mention a twelve year old teenager. But there was nothing he couldn't handle. The streets had taught Neal, that people lie. They lie a lot. And Neal found out that the best way to avoid such people is not to trust them.

It was a sunny autumn afternoon and Neal was sitting on the bench in the park. He saw a group of people gathered near a small wooden table. On one side of the table was standing a short bold guy, wearing glasses.

'Pick a card. Any card.' he said, when Neal approached the table. The man's hands were quick, but Neal's eyes were a lot faster.

'Hey, you are cheating! You hid the card in your right side pocket.'

The bold man was stunned and finished the game by shouting to the crowd.

'Sorry, folks. The game is over. Come back tomorrow.'

And this is how he met Mozzie. One of the real people in this fake world.

Mozzie taught Neal everything he knew, including the 'art of theft'. Neal never doubted his artistic skills, but with Mozzie he found the purpose for his talents. He created world-class forgeries, which were now proudly decorating the walls of the most famous museums in the world. And his masterpieces were also the part of some private collections.

Mozzie loved books. He always told Neal that he should read more, because as Ernest Hemingway said “There is no friend as loyal as a book.”

The next three years of Neal's life were almost perfect. Every teenager dreams about dangerous adventures, loyal friends, brilliant success and fame. Neal had all of the above. Even fame. He wasn't as famous as Madonna, but certain people in certain society knew him more than just well. Criminals wanted him to work for them, and FBI wanted him behind bars. There was one agent, whose life goal was to catch Neal Caffrey. Special Agent Peter Burke was on his trial for a very, very long time.

And of course, which hero doesn't have a lady of the heart? Kate. She was special. Why? Because she was Neal's first love and that was enough.

And everything was fine until that day. The day when Neal tripped. The day when it all began.

 

 


	2. Every story has an end...

'Boss, Caffrey just left the museum.'

Diana Berrigan, to whom belonged the phrase, didn't think that it would change so many lives, but it did. A few minutes after that a dozen of FBI agents were chasing a young man down the streets. Neal was both smart and fast, and he would have escaped the feds, but luck wasn't on his side that day. He tripped over and fell down, allowing a strong hand grab him and drag to one of the police cars. Fortunately, he managed to pass the stolen painting to another man, who turned around the corner and disappeared into the crowd.

The sun was already gone and you could see soft light from the moon, which was looking into the windows, but there was still no progress. Peter looked at his watch and sighed in frustration. How many sleepless nights there were while he was chasing Caffrey? And now, when he finally caught the young con, the kid still managed to get on his nerves. Half an hour later, Peter decided that it was enough and went into the interrogation room.

'Jones, I'll take it from here. Go home.'

'Are you sure?' asked the agent, who didn't even try to hide that he was tired and would do anything to get rid of the teenager sitting at the opposite side of the table.

'Yes. Thank you.'

When Jones left, an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Neal looked down at the table, while Peter was staring at the boy.

Finally Peter took some IDs from the table and began the conversation.

'So, I see that Steve is 21. Nick is 19. And George is 22. But how old are you, Neal?' asked the agent.

The teenager looked up and made eye contact with the man, who asked him the question. Then he replied. His voice was quiet, but confident.

'I'm 19, agent Burke.'

'Listen, I am not going to lie to you. I'm tired, even exhausted and I don't know about you, but I want to go home. But to do that, we need to finish this talk. And I want truthful answers. Deal? So, let's try this again. Neal, how old are you?'

Before Neal could answer, the door opened and Diana walked in.

'We found the painting. Unfortunately, we couldn't catch the thief, but we got him on the surveillance cameras. It's Matthew Keller.'

'Thank you, Diana.' Peter answered and then again turned to Neal.

'From what I know, kid, Keller is a dangerous man. And I wouldn't recommend you to show yourself to him after what happened. Keller doesn't forgive mistakes.'

At those words Neal looked down at the table and tried to hide his emotions. A few moments later he was looking Peter in the eyes, with complete look of innocence.

'Neal, I will repeat my question again, and this time I want the truth. But before we do that, I want you to know, that we can protect you from Keller, or whoever it is that was the mastermind of the heist. Now, how old are you?'

Peter's voice was calm and somehow it made Neal to relax a bit. No, not to trust the “suit”, but to believe his words. Neal lied almost every day and never felt guilty about that, but there was something about that agent and his eyes that demanded the truth.

'I'm 17.' was Neal's answer.

Peter sighed again. That was going to be a very, very long night. But before he could say anything, he heard Neal's voice.

'Ok, fine. I'm going to be 17 in two years.'

'And that makes you...?'

'Agent Burke, I think you can do simple arithmetic.'

'You are right. But I want to hear it from you.' replied the agent.

'I'm 15. Happy now?'

'No, I'm not.'

Neal definitely didn't expect such kind of answer. Before he could ask anything, Peter continued.

'Normal teenagers don't find themselves in the situations like this, Neal. They pull pranks at school, not heists at the museums! They get sent to the principal's office, not the prison! I want to believe that you're a good kid, but I can't. Not until you tell me everything you know about today's robbery.'

'I was just at the wrong place, at the wrong time, agent Burke. Things like that happen. You said it yourself, teenagers don't get into such kind of trouble.' answered the young con.

'In that case, I can't help you in any way. Unless you give me information about your parents, I will have to lock you up in a juvenile detention center.' Peter's voice was full of regret. He was truly sorry to do that to a kid, but he left him no choice. After ten minutes of silence, Peter stood up, motioned for Neal to follow him and without any words drove to the juvie.

Neal was scared. No, make that terrified. Mozzie always told him to be careful if he wanted to avoid prison. He warned him about Keller, but Neal being Neal didn't listen. And now he was heading to his doom. He wouldn't be able to survive, he had to do something...

The situation couldn't be any better for escape. It was night, the guards were all tired or just didn't care about anything. All of the circumstances made it easy for Neal to make his way out of the dreaded place.

A few hours later, Neal was heading to one of the Mozzie's hideouts, when he heard a voice behind him.

'You will be sorry for this, kid.'

And then there was darkness. But before that there was a thought.

'This is the end...'

 


	3. ...but every ending is a new beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'White Collar'. Which is actually a good thing, otherwise the show wouldn't be so awesome!   
> Thank you for reading. Enjoy the chapter! Take a minute and leave a review, your thoughts make me happy!

Neal opened his eyes. He was still laying on the pavement, but there was someone beside him. Everything hurt, and Neal wasn't sure if he was still alive. But he had to be alive, because soon he heard Mozzie's concerned voice.

'Neal, Neal! What happened?! Hold on, we'll get you to the hospital.'

'Moz, don't...'

'No, you can barely stay awake. You need a doctor.'

'Call Peter. Please.'

Mozzie hesitated for a few seconds. Neal definitely had a severe head injury if he wanted Mozzie to call a “suit”. And not just any “suit”, but the one who was chasing Neal for almost three years!

'Moz...' Neal moaned.

At that moment Mozzie decided that his young friend was far more important. He took a phone and dialed the number...

* * *

 

Agent Peter Burke was in a very bad mood. Not only had he spent almost all night in the interrogation room with that teenager, but now he was out of his bed looking for the said kid. Peter was about to kick something in frustration, when he heard his phone ringing.

'Peter Burke.'

'If the situation wasn't so critical, I wouldn't be calling you, suit. But a friend of mine insisted that I called you and not the doctors.' answered the voice on the other side of the line.

'Who are you?' Peter's irritation was growing with every second. This day couldn't get any worse.

'It doesn't matter. Neal asked me to call you.'

'Neal? Where is he? Wait? Did you say doctors?! What happened?'

'I hate to admit it, but I don't know. All I can say is that you need to get here and fast.'

'Tell me the address.' answered Peter, who was already starting the car.

Fifteen minutes later, which seemed more like fifteen hours to Peter, he stopped the car. The picture in front of him didn't make his mood any better. A short man was kneeling beside Neal, who was trying to get himself into a sitting position. Peter rushed to Neal's side.

'What happened? How are you feeling?' he asked, as soon as he was sitting near the young con.

'Glad you came, agent Burke.' murmured Neal, while Peter and Mozzie helped him to sit down.

'What happened, Caffrey?'

'You were right, Peter...' Neal looked at the agent with eyes full of regret. Then he looked at Mozzie.

'And you were right. You are always right... I'm sorry.' he managed to say before everything went black again.

* * *

 

Peter glanced at his watch for what it seemed the seventh time in five seconds. Neal was still unconscious. Three hours! Three hours, and still there was nothing. The doctor said that they had to wait. There was nothing they could do. They are doctors, they had to do something. Anything! He did his job. He put criminals behind bars, even if took three years to catch certain con artists. But when those con artists needed medical help, weren't those peacocks in white robes supposed to help them?

A hand touched Peter's shoulder. He looked around and suddenly all the anger was gone. Elizabeth. She was always there no matter what happened. Another woman would be at least shocked to hear that her husband was waiting at the hospital for a young criminal, who made FBI run in circles for a few years, to wake up. But Elizabeth wasn't surprised, she didn't ask any questions. After Peter called her, she packed some food and went to the hospital.

Another hour past. Then a nurse, with small hands and accurate manicure, approached the waiting couple.

'Excuse me, are you Mr. Caffrey's parents?' she asked with a sweet smile, which served only to annoy Peter. But before he could answer Elizabeth stood up.

'Yes, we are. How is he?'

'He regained consciousness, but is still weak. Doctor Smith is checking him right now. After that you can see your son.' the nurse said. Then she smiled again and went away.

'El, why did you tell her we were Neal's parents?' asked Peter.

'Honey, do you really think she would let us see him if I told her that you are an FBI agent, who caught the boy stealing the painting, locked him in a juvie and after he ran away you found him again and brought him here? Let's leave this story to agent Hughes.'

'Yeah, you are probably right.'

'You know I am right.' answered Elizabeth. At that moment the door opened and doctor Smith went out. He was a middle-aged man with dark hair and loud voice.

'Mr. Caffrey has a severe concussion and a few bad bruises. Other than that he is fine. He is a strong young man, so there is no need to worry. You can see him now, but don't stay too long. He needs to rest.' with those words doctor Smith led the Burkes to the room.

Neal was sitting on his bed trying to have a better look at the surroundings, when Peter and Elizabeth went in.

'Agent Burke' said Neal and smiled. 'Oh, and you must be Mrs Burke! It's nice to meet you. I'm sorry, I can't stand up to greet you.'

'It's ok, Neal. And it's really nice to meet you, too.' answered Elizabeth, sitting down in a chair near the bed.

'How did you know, Caffrey?' asked Peter.

'What? That Elizabeth is your wife? You have a ring and hospital is not a place where you can come with a... you know, “girlfriend”.' answered the young con and smiled again.

'How did you know her name?!'

'Know thy enemy...' started Neal, but was interrupted by Elizabeth.

'You two will have enough time to talk. How are you feeling, Neal?'

'Had been better, Mrs Burke. But definitely had been worse.' answered the teenager and flashed his smile again.

At those words Elizabeth glanced at Peter, who stood awkwardly near the bed with confusion written all over his face. Was he supposed to say something? Or maybe... Peter didn't have much time to think because Elizabeth stood up and announced that she would give them a few minutes to sort things out and left the room. Once the door was closed Neal started talking.

'I just wanted to thank you for coming, agent Burke.'

'You thought I would leave you at the hospital alone after you escaped juvie? No way.' answered Peter, sitting down.

'No, I meant... when, um, my friend called you. Especially after all the trouble I caused... But I couldn't stay at juvie... I... never mind, I guess I'll be heading there soon, anyway.' said Neal, avoiding to look Peter in the eyes.

'Like I said, Caffrey. I think you are a good kid, who got into a bad company, I wouldn't have left you on the street.' answered Peter, leaving out the fact that he was ordered to find the teenager in the first place. Neal didn't answer, so Peter decided to continue the conversation.

'Neal, why did you run away?'

'I don't like being in prison, agent Burke.' answered the young con. His voice was quiet and not confident at all.

That second Peter suddenly realized that he knew exactly what to say and what to ask. There wasn't just a criminal in front of him, it was a teenager. A smart kid who didn't know what to do with his life. Was there anyone to guide him? Was there anyone who loved him? That bald guy, who called Peter, surely cared for the young con. But was that enough?

'Neal, look at me, please.'

When Neal lifted his head and looked at Peter, the agent continued.

'I know that prison is a rough place for the kids like you. I know that you are afraid, even though you won't admit it. And I know that you were involved in that heist. But I am sure that if you help the investigation, I will be able to offer you a deal. Something without being locked up in a cell. I don't expect an answer from you right now, but I want you to think about it.' said Peter. Then he stood up and went to open the window. After he returned he went straight to Neal's bed again and looked at the boy.

'Whoever did this to you won't leave you alone. Let us protect you.'

After Elizabeth and Peter left, Neal closed his eyes and started thinking. Maybe he should help the FBI? Maybe agent Burke was right and he needed protection? And maybe, just maybe, he needed to start trusting people...

 

 

 

 


	4. Change is difficult, not changing is fatal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support and attention! Hope you enjoy this chapter! Comments and reviews are very much loved! :D

Four days passed since Peter brought Neal to the hospital. And now Neal was standing in the hospital room looking out of the window. Everything seemed so familiar, yet so different... Neal still wasn't sure if he made the right decision by agreeing to help the FBI. But it seemed that he didn't have another choice. There was no one else to protect him from Keller, and Keller wasn't his only problem. But the feds didn't have to know about that. Neal didn't care much about himself when he looked at Peter and told him that he would take the deal. Of course being not behind bars was good, but knowing that he did everything in his power to protect people he cared about gave the young con some peace.

Neal knew that his life was about to change. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but agent Burke said that it would be better than prison. And, surprisingly, Neal believed him.

The teenager was still standing by the window when the door opened and Peter went in.

'Are you ready to go?' he asked.

Neal nodded and followed Peter outside. The ride to the bureau was quiet, but not uncomfortable. When they were halfway to their destination Neal broke the silence.

'Do you know what is going to happen today?'

'Oh, yeah.' answered Peter, keeping eyes on the road.

'Well?'

'Well, what?'

'Aren't you going to tell me?'

'What's the point? You will know your fate in less than an hour. I don't want to ruin the surprise.' said Peter, this time looking directly at Neal.

'I would rather you keep your eyes on the road.' said the teenager and turned to look out of the window.

As soon as they arrived Neal was left with agent Jones, while Peter went to the conference room to discuss the final details. Half an hour later Peter was back to see that Neal was arguing with some agents.

'I am telling you! They are both forgeries. The faces of the women on Botticelli's masterpieces are pale and porcelain–like. But here they look like a smashed tomato! And on another painting the colours are all wrong. Botticelli's pigments were the finest of his time and this' Neal gestured at the painting, 'is just a poor attempt and nothing more!'

Peter was listening to Neal's lecture on Renaissance when agent Hughes stopped near him.

'That boy really has a good eye. Peter, how about instead of community service as a part of his deal, he'll work as an art consultant at the bureau? Nothing dangerous, of course, and it will be easier to keep an eye on him. What do you think?'

'Let's ask him.' answered Peter and went closer to Neal, who at that time was talking about Raphael. 'Neal, you will continue your lesson on Renaissance next time. Let's go.'

Suddenly Neal realized where he was and why. He slowly followed Peter to the conference room and sat down at the table.

'Mr Caffrey, we don't have much time so listen carefully.' began agent Hughes. 'You agreed to provide information on the museum heist in which you took part a few days ago. You still remain a suspect in some other cases, but we don't have any evidence. Yet. Agent Burke managed to convince the jury that you shall be released into our custody. Agent Burke agreed to be your handler, so from now on you will be under his constant supervision. Do you understand?'

Neal nodded and Hughes continued.

'Now, there is no need to say, but we expect absolutely no criminal behaviour. If you break any laws, you'll find yourself in a juvie. The jury decided that there is no need to involve the US Marshals, but it still remains an option. Go back to your criminal stunts and the next thing you know, there will be a tracking anklet on your leg. Understood?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Good. We also decided that it would be better if instead of community service you helped us at the bureau. We could really use your expertise in art. But this is your choice, if you don't want to...'

Agent Hughes was interrupted by Neal, whose eyes lit up as soon as he heard that he could work at the bureau.

'I would really like to help the FBI, sir. Sorry for interrupting.'

'Ok, then. As you have no relatives and we won't allow you to go back to the place where you lived before with your, hmm, "friends"... you will be living with a foster family.'

At those words Neal's eyes widened with fear.

'Can't I just sleep on the floor in the conference room?'

'That would be easier for all of us, but, unfortunately, it's not an option. Don't worry, from what I know, it's a nice couple. They don't have their own children and are willing to take care of you. Well, I said everything I wanted. Agent Burke will take care of the rest. Both of you are free for the day.'

As soon as Peter and Neal were in the car, the teenager started asking questions.

'Peter, did you know about this?'

'About what exactly?' asked the agent, starting the car.

'About this whole 'foster family' thing! It's just... well... you know, I had a bad experience with foster families. I wasn't meant to be a part of a family, I guess. Do those people know about my past?' asked Neal.

'Don't be stupid, Caffrey. Everyone deserves to have a loving family and you are not an exception. And yes, they know everything they need to know about you and your past.' replied Peter, driving the car.

'What if I mess up and...'

'Neal, I'm more than sure that you will mess up.'

'Wow, you really have faith in me, agent Burke.'

'You didn't let me finish. What I was going to say is that even when you mess up, I'm sure we'll be able to sort things out. Nobody is going to kick you out.'

A few minutes of silence and then Neal asked in a quiet voice.

'Agent Burke, are we going there now? Do you know these people?'

'Yes, we are going there now. And yes, I know these people. Is the great Neal Caffrey afraid?' asked Peter, glancing at Neal.

The young con didn't answer and kept staring at the road. Next time Peter broke the silence.

'I almost forgot, I need to stop at the pharmacy. Can I trust you to stay in the car or do I need to take you with me?'

'I'll stay here. I won't run away, promise.' answered Neal.

Five minutes later Peter stopped the car and went into the building. He returned with hands full of different boxes and bottles with medicine.

'You are a sick, sick man, agent Burke.' said Neal with a huge smile, when he saw the amount of pills. Peter didn't answer but smiled in reply.

Finally they arrived. Peter took some files, his briefcase and the pills, he got in the pharmacy and got out of the car. He expected Neal to follow his example, but the teenager stayed in the car. Peter decided to wait for a while but after exactly twelve minutes he opened the door and motioned for Neal to get out.

'Peter...' started the teenager.

'No, Caffrey. You can't stay in my car. Whether you like it or not, you'll have to meet your new foster family. Now, you can do as you are told, or I can drag you out. Your choice. I wouldn't recommend you the second option, because as far as I know your new neighbours will be watching.'

Neal considered his options for a few seconds and quickly got out of the car. He followed Peter to the steps. Then the agent took out the keys and opened the door. Neal didn't notice anything, he was too nervous. A few more seconds and they were in the house. He didn't have any time to look around, because something big and furry was suddenly licking his face. It didn't take long for Neal to realise that it was a dog.

'Satchmo! Get down, boy!' said a familiar woman's voice. Neal looked up and saw Elizabeth Burke.

'Mrs Burke! It's so nice to see you again!' said Neal, feeling that he was pulled into a hug.

'It's nice to see you too, Neal. And stop being so official. I thought I told you to call me Elizabeth or El.' she answered.

'Thank you, Elizabeth.' Then Neal turned to Peter, who put his briefcase on the floor and started petting the dog.

'Peter? I thought we were going to meet my new foster family...' said Neal, clearly confused.

Peter was about to answer, but Elizabeth didn't give him a chance.

'Peter! You didn't tell him?! You and Reese decided to torture the poor boy! How could you?'

'Oh, come on, El. No permanent damage done. Are you alright, buddy?' Peter asked Neal.

The teenager just nodded, still trying to understand what was going on. Peter saw the look on Neal's face and decided to explain him the situation.

'Let's sit down, ok?' he said and led Neal to the couch, with El and Satchmo following them. A few moments later the young con found himself sitting on the coach between Peter and Elizabeth. Satchmo laid his head on Neal's knees.

'Neal, agent Hughes told you that you are going to be under my constant supervision, he meant it literally. You are going to stay with us. We are your foster family.' Peter said simply.

'Really, Peter? This is not a joke?' asked Neal.

'Is it so hard to believe, Caffrey?' replied Peter teasingly. 'And by the way, those pills aren't for me. As you said they are for a sick, sick person.'

'No, you don't mean...'

'Yes, Neal. I mean it. Those are for you.' said Peter, standing up. 'We'll talk about it later. El is dying to show you your new room.'

While Elizabeth was showing Neal the house, Peter turned on TV and sat down on the couch. Baseball game was on, but the agent didn't pay much attention to it. All his thoughts were circling around the teenager, who was definitely going to change their lives forever. The whole ride home Peter saw how worried and scared Neal was. Peter tried to stay calm and confident, but in reality he felt the same way as his young charge. El was so natural around him, she knew exactly what to say and what to do. Peter on the other hand didn't even know what to think. For him teenagers were creatures from another planet. And Neal seemed to be from another universe...

* * *

Dinner was something special for Neal. He never thought that eating could be so pleasant. Elizabeth was asking him about his life, Peter was making attempts to be funny and Neal... Neal was enjoying all this. Hot tea, home-made food, smiling faces and a nice conversation, all of this felt right... it felt like home. Home, a word which Neal forgot a long time ago. Living with Mozzie was great, but it never felt like home, maybe because they had to move almost every day...

After the dinner was over, Peter stood up, brought a glass of water and some pills and put everything in front of Neal.

'Agent Burke, I don't know what that doctor said to you, but I'm perfectly fine.' said Neal. Well, maybe not  _perfectly_ fine, but fine.

'I'm not going to argue with you, Neal. You had a concussion and now you need to take the medicine. End of story. We need to discuss a few more things tonight and after that we were planning to watch a movie. If you don't want to end up being sent to bed early, I recommend you to take these pills now.' said Peter rather sternly.

Neal decided not to argue, to which Peter was really grateful. A few minutes later they went to the living room. El was sitting on the coach reading a book when they entered. Peter sat beside his wife, while Neal made his way to an armchair opposite the coach. Elizabeth put away her book and started the conversation.

'Neal, sweetie, Peter and I want to talk to you about something.'

'Sure, Elizabeth.' replied the teenager with a smile.

'For all of this to work, we need to make sure that you understand what kind of behaviour we expect.' started Peter looking directly at Neal.

'Agent Burke, I don't need the "rules and consequences" talk. Agent Hughes made it very clear today.'

'Agent Burke is satisfied with the rules that were discussed in the office earlier, but Peter is not.' answered the agent.

'Wow. Elizabeth, I think you should have your husband checked up by a specialist. A friend of mine knows a good psychiatrist...' started Neal, but was interrupted by El.

'Stop it, Neal. What was Peter trying to say, is that now you are living with us and we wanted to set up some rules, so it would be easier for all of us. We can't expect you to do as we like if you don't even know what we want from you. The rules are pretty simple. No lying, no stealing, not going anywhere without telling us.' said Elizabeth and Peter continued.

'And nothing illegal. You will be in huge trouble if I find out about your shenanigans. Since it's summer holidays and you don't have to go to school, you'll be coming with me to the bureau. Don't get too excited, mostly you'll be working on some cold cases or help to identify forgeries... And you can call me Peter. Is everything clear? Any questions?' finished the agent.

'Everything is clear, Peter. But... what kind of trouble? I think that prison threat is enough.'

'Like I said, Neal. Prison, the US Marshals or the anklet are, let's call them "official" punishments. Elizabeth and I will try to make everything in our power to keep you away from those punishments. But it doesn't mean that you will continue living your consequences free life. We'll decide what to do depending on what you did wrong, ok? We are new to all of this too, Neal. So, we need to do everything together in order to understand each other.'

'I guess that makes sense.' said Neal.

'Well, I think we discussed everything we wanted. How about a movie?' asked El.

* * *

After the movie was over Neal went to his new room. He turned on the lights, sat on the soft bed and looked around, still not believing that all of this was happening. The room was rather big, but it didn't have much furniture in it. There were a bed, a bedside table with a lamp on it, a closet and a bookcase. Near the window there were a desk and chair. Neal was about to start getting ready for bed, when his cell phone rang.

'Hello?'

'Neal, we have problems.'


	5. Trust is like a theft, easier said than done

'Mozzie, what happened?'

'I'd rather talk to you in person. There is a park not far from the suit's house. I'll meet you there in three hours, near the pond.' answered Mozzie and ended the call.

Neal sighed and turned off the phone. He didn't want to break any of the Burkes' rules, not on the first day at least. But it looked like he didn't have a choice, so two and a half hours later the teenager was sitting on the bench, looking at the dark water in the pond.

'It's been a long time, mon frère.' said Mozzie, sitting down beside Neal.

'Nice to see you, Moz.' replied Neal and looked at his friend. 'So, what is going on?'

'Business can wait, Neal. First, let's talk about you. How are you doing? You know I couldn't come to the hospital...'

'It's fine, Mozzie. And I'm fine, although Peter thinks otherwise.'

'So, the suit is permanent?'

Neal just nodded.

'Could have been worse. Peter is not that bad and Elizabeth, his wife, is a fantastic woman.'

'Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.' said Mozzie.

'I don't think that's the case, Moz. Listen, I don't have much time, so, can we please move on to important things?'

'Right. I met Adler today and he was pissed about what happened at the museum, but he is willing to let it go if we agree to do another job.' started Mozzie.

'Need I remind you that I was caught and now I'm living with a fed?'

'Don't make any rushed decisions, Neal. Hear me out first. A few years ago Adler's men broke into Amsterdam's Van Gogh Museum. They took only two paintings...'

'Wait, are you talking about the heist, which took place in 2002? That time Van Gogh's “View of the Sea at Scheveningen” and “Congregation Leaving the Reformed Church in Nuenen” were taken.' Neal's eyes widened. Those were the masterpieces, which still haven't been found.

'That's exactly what I'm talking about. The paintings were secure, but a few days ago the “View of the Sea at Scheveningen” was stolen. Adler thinks that it was one of his rivals. I don't know his real name, but he is known as the Hound. Adler wants us to steal the painting back.' finished the short guy and looked at the teenager expectantly. When Neal didn't answer, Mozzie spoke up again.

'Neal, before you give me the answer... you should know that Adler didn't ask. He demanded. Besides, it's a pretty interesting job, not without the risks, of course. But a wise man once said: “There can be no great accomplishment without risk.” So, are you in?'

'Who else will be on the job?' asked Neal.

'No one. And that's the beauty of it.' answered Mozzie and stood up. 'It's our chance to shine. Think about it, Neal. If you decide not to turn into a mini-fed, I'll be waiting for you tomorrow. Same time, same place.'

Neal's head was spinning. He didn't know what to do. On the one hand, the threat of prison was still hanging over him. But on the other, this job really sounded intriguing. And maybe it was, as Mozzie put it, their chance to shine. Kate would definitely see him as a hero...

With those thoughts Neal climbed through the window back into his room. He didn't even realise that he was so tired, but as soon as his head touched the pillow, the young con fell sound asleep. A few hours later, which seemed more like a few seconds to Neal, he heard a soft knock. At first he thought that it was El, but a few moments later he heard Peter's voice.

'Neal, are you awake? May I come in?'

'Yeah, sure.' answered the teenager, but didn't even make an attempt to open his eyes.

'Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes. We'll be waiting for you downstairs.' said Peter and went out of the room, closing the door behind.

When Neal came down, Peter was already drinking coffee and reading a newspaper, while Elizabeth was cooking.

'Good morning.' said Neal, trying to hide that he didn't get enough sleep.

'Good morning, sweetie! How did you sleep?' asked Elizabeth. Her voice was so cheerful, that at first Neal thought that she was singing.

'Good, thanks.' he replied, and that wasn't actually a lie, because he did sleep good, only not enough.

After breakfast Peter and Neal went to the bureau. The teenager was excited, and who wouldn't be? His first day at work... Peter glanced at Neal and chuckled. He had the exact same expression on his face on the first day.

By the end of the day Neal was a bit disappointed. He was stuck in a stuffy office all day sorting files. No criminals, no forgeries, no mysterious calls or robberies, only paperwork and terrible coffee. The only excitement was when agent Jones called him.

'Hey, Caffrey! You were right yesterday, about the forgeries. The lab confirmed your guess. None of the painting were Botticelli's.' said the agent.

'It wasn't a guess, agent Jones.' answered Neal, flashing his smile.

And then again Neal was trapped in a Kingdom of Boredom. He tried to help some agents with cold cases, but only distracted them from their work. After incredibly long twenty minutes Neal ended up being sent to Peter's office. The agent didn't hesitate and gave his young charge some pencils and a piece of paper. For half an hour there were silence and peace... But Neal eventually got bored again.

'Neal, get your legs off the table.' growled the frustrated agent. 'And, please, stop clicking that pen.' Silence at last. Not for long, unfortunately.

'Neal, it's a chair, not a merry-go-round!'

'But, Peter! I'm bored! Nothing happens here! No excitement at all!' complained Neal.

'It's not an amusement park. Besides, one of our biggest “excitements” is sitting here.' answered Peter teasingly.

'Very funny, Peter.'

A few minutes later Peter turned off his computer, took a few files and made his way to the door.

'Peter, where are you going?' asked Neal in alarm.

'We are going home. Come on, Neal.'

Once they were in the car, Neal expected Peter to turn on the a game on the radio, but he didn't.

'Neal I want you to understand that life isn't only about excitement.' said the agent, starting the car. 'Our job is to catch bad guys but we also have to do it right. So, sometimes we just need to have a quiet day and complete the paperwork.'

'I understand that, Peter.' answered the teenager.

'No, I think you don't. To succeed in life you have to be patient. I thought you of all people knew that. Tell me, does it take just a few minutes to create a good forgery?'

'Peter, it's not necessary...'

'No, Neal. Answer the question.'

'No. It takes weeks, sometimes months.' mumbled Neal in reply.

'But the result is worth the time, right?' asked Peter.

When Neal nodded, the agent continued talking about that not everything in life is interesting and you have to accept it. The lecture went on until they finally stopped near the house. By that time Neal decided that listening to Peter's lectures was even worse than being bored.

Elizabeth wasn't at home, so the only one who was waiting for them was Satchmo.

'I need to finish a few reports.' said Peter sitting down at the table. 'And you can go out for a walk, only take Satch with you. There is a park...'

'Yeah, I know.' answered Neal, happy to do something. When he caught Peter's eyes on him, he added. 'I saw it when we were driving home.'

Peter seemed to believe, so the only thing he said before Neal left was to be careful and that he expected Neal to be back in half an hour.

Neal was walking in the park with Satchmo when he heard a familiar soft voice.

'So it's true that you are on a short leash now.'

'Kate! It's so nice to see you again! But what are doing here?' asked Neal, walking towards the girl.

She was as beautiful as ever and she was wearing a blue dress, matching the colour of her eyes. Neal glanced at her left hand and saw that the bracelet he gave her was still there.

'Dad has some business here.' answered Kate. 'Well, I'd better get going. I'm not supposed to be anywhere near you, since you're working with the feds.'

'Kate, wait!'

'See you later, Neal.' was her answer and a few seconds later she was gone.

There was nothing Neal could do, so he went home. He was so angry! Last week his life was almost perfect. Adler allowed him to work with Keller, Mozzie managed to get him some rare pigments for the forgeries and more importantly things with Kate got better and they went out on a few dates. But all of this was ruined when Peter caught him. Of course it was nice to be a part of a family, but there were rules, boring work and strict control. And Neal decided that such kind of life wasn't for him.

When Neal arrived home he heard laughter coming from the kitchen. He went in and saw Elizabeth and Peter.

'Hi, El!' he greeted.

'Hi, sweetie! Peter tells me your first day at work didn't come up to your expectations.'

'It was amazingly boring, El!'

The rest of the evening was quiet and uneventful. When Neal went to bed, Peter decided to talk with his wife.

'El, I think he's up to something.'

'And I think you are being paranoid, hon.' answered Elizabeth getting ready for bed. 'Give him some space. It's not easy for him and people don't change over night, Peter. But I can tell you that he is trying. Neal is a smart kid, show him that you trust him and eventually he will trust you.'

'Yeah... You're right.' said Peter and relaxed a little.

He tried to tell himself that Elizabeth was right but something was still bothering him. He saw that Neal was acting strange when he returned home and Peter was sure that something happened at the park. Speaking of which, how did Neal know about it? They didn't pass it on the way from the bureau... Or maybe he was in that area before and Peter was really paranoid? Finally, Peter fell asleep, forgetting about all his problems for a few hours.

Meanwhile, Neal and Mozzie were making plans on stealing the painting...

* * *

 

Two days passed. Neal tried to act normal so that Peter wouldn't suspect anything. And Peter tried to keep Neal occupied.

It was 11 p. m. Neal and Mozzie were on their way to the Hound's mansion. They suspected the painting to be on the ground floor, so it was decided that Neal would get in the room through the window, while Mozzie distracted the guards. To their surprise, there was no one to distract and they managed to break into the house pretty quickly.

A few minutes later Neal picked the lock and opened a safe, but the painting wasn't there. The teenager started looking for Van Gogh's masterpiece, when they heard the voices of the guards. Mozzie climbed out of the window and went to the grand entrance, in order to provide distraction, while Neal continued his search. Soon he managed to find the painting and quickly left the house.

Twenty minutes later Mozzie met Neal again.

'Did you find the painting?' he asked.

'Yes... But...'

'Neal, what is it?'

'I found it in the closet and got out of there. I didn't check the painting. Then I thought that it was too easy... and, Moz, it's not the real painting.'

'WHAT?! Are you sure?' asked Mozzie.

'Yes, Van Gogh painted the picture on the spot, at Scheveningen, so a few grains of sand can be found in some of the paint layers. There is no sand on this painting and if you look carefully you will see that the colour of the sea is wrong. So, it's a forgery and not a very good one.' concluded Neal.

Mozzie considered their options for a few minutes.

'Ok, there's what we are going to do. We will bring Adler the forgery and will decide what to do next depending on the situation.'

One hour later they were standing in front of Adler, while he was examining the painting. Finally, he put away all of his instruments.

'Very well. Thank you for your assistance, we'll be in touch.' said Adler opening the safe and putting the painting in it.

Mozzie and Neal exchanged looks but said nothing and quickly left the room. Neal was the first to break the silence.

'Adler saw that it was a forgery, but he said nothing!'

'I think he needed that forgery and not the real painting. There is something special about that picture and Adler knows it, and Hound obviously didn't, because it wasn't secure there. But Adler put it in a safe...' replied Mozzie.

'What are we going to do next?' asked Neal.

'Neal, don't you think it's a bit dangerous to investigate Adler? Besides, the suit might find out and you'll be in trouble.'

'Relax, Moz. Peter won't find out. Don't pretend that you don't want to know what is so special about that forgery. I know I'm interested.' said Neal, walking out of the building and closing the door.

'You know the Chinese curse. May you live in interesting times.' said Mozzie.

'You know that' s the first of two curses.' said Neal, smiling.

'What's the other one?' asked the short guy.

'May you find what you're looking for.' replied Neal.

'You forgot the most important part.'said Peter, walking from around the corner. 'May you come to the attention of those in authority.'

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The robbery of Amsterdam's Museum was real and really took place in 2002. And although two men were arrested in 2004, the paintings are still missing. Oh, and Adler and other fictional characters had nothing to do with it in real life. So, don't take it seriously. Saying this just in case.


	6. There is no punishment in life, but consequences

While Neal was on his way to the safe place with the painting, the house was surrounded by police cars. Federal agents were storming into the building.

Peter was almost happy. Finally they got enough evidence to arrest Hound and his band. They were suspects in many cases, but at least FBI could get them for possession of stolen property. The only thing which was bothering the agent was Neal. Peter knew he snuck out of the window and...

That moment Peter saw a familiar short guy in glasses leaving the territory of the building. Wait a minute... That was Neal's friend, the one who called Peter. What was his name again? Haversham.

Peter wanted to follow that guy, but, unfortunately, there were more important things to do. A little more than half an hour later, Hound and his band were taken into police custody and agent Burke was free to do his own business. Peter wasn't sure if he would be able to find Haversham, or whatever his name was, but still went in the direction he saw the bold guy retreated. A few minutes later Peter saw the door of one of the houses opening and two men coming out. The agent stopped and listened carefully. Soon he was able to hear the voices and figured out that they were coming his way. As soon as Peter heard Neal's voice, he wanted to jump out of the corner, grab the teenager's ear and drag him home. But he forced himself to calm down just in time to hear Haversham's voice.

'You know the Chinese curse. May you live in interesting times.'

'You know that's the first of two curses.' said Neal. That second Peter was struggling to stay calm.

'What's the other one?'

'May you find what you're looking for.' replied Neal. That was when Peter decided that he had heard enough.

'You forgot the most important part.' he said, walking from around the corner. 'May you come to the attention of those in authority.'

Neal quickly turned around to see Peter standing right in front of him with hands on hips, his face turning the dangerously dark shade of red, which could only meant one thing. Trouble. Mozzie also understood what was about to happen and was deciding on whether he should run right that second, or at least try and help Neal, if that was possible.

'Peter! It's a nice evening for a walk, don't you think?' said Neal, putting a charming smile on his face. Which was a wrong thing to do, as Peter's face turned terracotta red.

'Evening? Have you seen what time is it, Neal? You were supposed to be in bed three hours ago!' said Peter, trying his best not to shout.

'Peter...'

'No. Save it, Neal. You'll have enough time to explain.' said the agent and made a move to grab Neal's arm.

'OW! OW! OW! Peter, you're hurting me!' cried the teenager.

Peter's hand stopped in midair. He glanced at the young con disbelievingly.

'I haven't even touched you yet!' exclaimed Peter.

'He hasn't touched you, Neal.' said Mozzie, who was standing frozen the whole time. 'I'm the witness here.'

Neal stopped his cries and glanced at Mozzie. Peter put his hand on Neal's shoulder and turned around.

'Don't think I'm done with you!' he said, pointing at Mozzie.

'I can't say that it was nice to see you again, suit. But I have to go.' answered Mozzie and went away.

Peter walked Neal to the car, which was parked a couple of blocks away. When he opened the door, Neal quickly sat down, making the right decision not to irritate the agent further. The ride to the Burkes' house was silent. Neal wasn't making any attempts to speak, because he saw how angry Peter was. His face was still red, his jaw was clenched and he was gripping the steering wheel like it was some sort of a gym apparatus.

Finally Peter stopped the car and went out. He made his way to the house with Neal following, when he remembered that he left some packages in the car.

'Neal, I left the vegetables El asked for in the car. Could you get them?' he asked, still gritting his teeth.

The teenager nodded and bent down to take the packages. Peter saw a ball on the ground and deciding to let some steam out, he kicked it. The ball hit the gates and bounced back, flying directly at Neal.

'Ouch! Peter! This time you did hit me! And with a ball!' shouted Neal. 'Right in the ass!'

'I... it wasn't... I'm sorry. I was so angry and this ball... It wasn't intentional.' said Peter, feeling much better and not sorry at all. Peter knew that he could never actually hit the kid, but thought about practicing that kick.

Elizabeth was waiting for them and saw the whole scene from the window. She never saw her husband that angry and wondered what was it all about. Surely it wasn't only because Neal decided to go for a walk in the middle of the night.

A few minutes after the 'ball accident' the front door opened. It was evident that Neal still had a grudge against Peter as it was written all over his face. And Peter was still angry. He ordered Neal to sit down and stormed into the kitchen to put the packages.

Neal reluctantly sat down, praying that there weren't any more balls in the house.

'Sweetie, what happened?' asked Elizabeth, sitting beside the teenager.

'Peter is just being over dramatic, Elizabeth.' said Neal, looking her in the eyes. 'It wasn't a big deal...'

'Wasn't a big deal?!' roared Peter, coming from the kitchen. 'What were you doing there, Neal?'

'I was just...' started the young con.

'Don't you dare lie to me saying that you were just walking!' shouted the agent. 'I know you were in that mansion!'

Elizabeth saw that Peter was out of control and decided to stop him before it became too late. She glanced at Neal, who was staring at Peter, and stood up.

'Honey, I think your discussion can wait till the morning. You are both tired and need to calm down.' said El, putting her gentle hand on Peter's back. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

'You.' he said, pointing at Neal. 'Bed. Now.'

The teenager didn't wait to be told twice. And hurried to his room. He was grateful that El stopped that volcano from eruption. And did Peter really know that he was a that house? If so, he wouldn't have let him get away...

As soon as Peter heard the bedroom door shut, he sat down on the coach and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. Elizabeth brought him a cup of tea and silently sat down. She waited until Peter relaxed a bit and was ready to talk.

'What did he do?' asked El.

Peter took a deep breath again and told his wife everything that happened. When he finished the story, he was angry again.

'And did you see him, El? No regret! Maybe he is sorry, but not for what he did, but because he was caught! I swear, El, I will tear his ears off!' at this point Peter was close to shouting.

'Peter! Calm down.' said Elizabeth. This time they heard the steps on the stairs.

'Neal! Come here!' barked Peter. When there was no movement, the agent began counting.

'One. Two. Don't make me come to three.' At that moment Neal decided to leave the mystery of what would happen at “three” unsolved, and came down to face the music. He half expected Peter to carry out his threat of tearing Neal's ears off, but much to the teenager's relief he didn't. Instead he was sitting with one of his slippers in his hand. When Neal came near enough, Peter pulled him closer and took his hands. Peter looked Neal in the eyes. The next phrase that came out of the agent's mouth was said calmly, but rather sternly.

'If I ever catch you eavesdropping again, I will not hesitate to use it.' said Peter, shaking the slipper in front of Neal's nose. 'Am I clear?'

'Yes.' replied the teenager, wondering if it was just an empty threat.

'Good. Go to bed.' answered Peter. He didn't want to admit it, but he was tired and in no shape or mood to argue and shout. All he needed right now was some sleep. And more of El's tea.

* * *

 

Morning came too quickly, much to Neal's disappointment. He really hoped that Peter had enough time to calm down. Not that he was afraid of the man, but last night he was a little bit... intimidating, to say at least. When Neal came down he hear Elizabeth's soft laugh. At least she was in a good mood. Then the teenager went into the kitchen. Peter was talking with El and also seemed to be in better spirits than the previous night. It was a few seconds later when Neal noticed that Peter was wearing his suit.

'Good morning.' said Neal, sitting down at the table.

'Good morning, sweetie!' replied El.

'Morning.' grumbled Peter.

'Peter, I thought we didn't have to go to work on Saturday.' began Neal.

'I have some business to take care of in the office.' said the agent, drinking his coffee. 'And you are not going anywhere. You're grounded for a long time. But we'll talk about it when I get back.'

'WHAT? You can't...'

'Oh, don't tell me what I can and can't do, Neal! You knew what would happen if you broke the rules, but you decided to ignore that. We'll talk about that as well. But now eat your breakfast.'

After that Peter left and Neal was sent to his room. He tried talking El out of his punishment, but she was on Peter's side. Neal sat down and started thinking. What should he say to Peter? How much does the agent know?

A couple of hours passed rather peacefully with Neal sitting in his room and Elizabeth working. Then Satchmo ran to the door and started barking. Elizabeth stood up and went to the window. Near their house was standing a short guy. He went up the stairs and raised his hand to knock, but hesitated and lowered his hand. Then he raised the hand again, but didn't knock. Instead, he turned around and started coming down the stairs. Elizabeth was amused by the whole scene and opened the door.

'Did you want anything?' she asked.

'Um, no... I think I got the wrong address...' said the bold guy. Elizabeth looked at him skeptically.

'I can tell that you are one of those people who doesn't get wrong addresses.' replied Elizabeth. 'Come on in.'

Finally the visitor decided to come in. El closed the door and gestured to sit down.

'I guess you're one of Neal's friends, right? What's your name?'

'Haversham.' El raised her eyebrow. 'Mozzie. You can call me Mozzie, Mrs Suit.'

'And you can call me El.' answered the woman and smiled.

Neal heard that someone came and decided to check who it was. As he was making his way to the door, he remembered Peter's slipper. So he went to the stairs and asked.

'El?'

'Neal, go to your room. It's just one of my clients.' was the reply. Neal decided wisely not to get in hot water with Elizabeth and did as he was told. Besides, he had enough things to worry about... One of his concerns was Peter and their unfinished conversation. But there was also Adler and the forgery. How much Neal wanted to get his hands on that painting!

Meanwhile Elizabeth and Mozzie had a nice chat, and El's new acquaintance began talking about the purpose of his visit. Neal.

'Don't worry about him.' said Elizabeth. 'But, Mozzie, I want to ask you for something.'

'Go ahead, Mrs Suit. If it's in my power, I'll do it.'

'You're Neal's friend and you have to understand. We can't allow him to get involved into any criminal activity. Mozzie, please, do what you can to stop him.'

'You know what they say, Mrs Suit. It's not about what you can do, it's about what you will do.' said Mozzie, standing up and heading to the door.

'Then do it, Mozzie. Do it for Neal. He needs our help. He needs his friends and _family._ '

At those words Mozzie stopped but didn't turn around and kept silent. He stood there for a few seconds, said good-bye and left.

An hour later after Mozzie's departure, Peter arrived home. He was interrogating Hound and his men, and one of them mentioned that there was one painting missing. It was a forgery with no particular value...

After a brief conversation with El, Peter called Neal downstairs. Neal took his place on the coach, expecting lightening and thunder. But Peter was calm and focused.

'Neal, what were you doing in the middle of the night walking down the street?' asked the agent.

'Me and my friend, we were just wa...'

'Don't even start.'

'Peter, what do you expect me to say?'

'I want the truth and you know it. I know you were in the Hound's mansion. What in the world were you doing there?!' asked Peter, trying his best to remain calm. 'Think well about your answer, Neal. You'll find yourself in deep trouble if the next thing coming from your mouth is another huge fat lie.'

'Fine. Some people asked us to observe.' said Neal.

'To observe?' asked the agent.

'Yeah. You know... They wanted to know if there were any cameras, when the Hound left the house, how many guards he had... That kind of stuff.' was Neal's reply, which wasn't a direct lie, because they really observed at first.

'Who asked you to “observe”?'

'I don't know them. My friend...'

'Mozzie?'

'Yes. How did you know his name?' asked Neal, surprised.

'It's my job to know. Why did you agree?'

'I... well, I needed some money.' lied the young con.

'And you couldn't ask me for money?'

'You wouldn't give me that much...' was Neal's answer.

'How much did you need?'

'Three hundred bucks...'

'Three hundred? What for? Neal?' asked Peter, close to shouting.

'Um... you see... there is this girl. Kate. I like her and her birthday is soon. I wanted to give her something special...' began explaining Neal.

'She has expensive tastes, your Kate! But she's the last of my concerns for now. Did you take anything from the Hound's mansion, Neal?;

'No.' answered the teenager.

'Neal, if you're lying...'

'I didn't take anything, agent Burke!' snapped Neal.

'Fine. Let's pretend that I believe you. I'm sure it wasn't the only night you spent “observing”. Am I right?'

'Yes.' replied Neal, not daring to look Peter in the eyes.

'How many times?'

'This whole week...' said Neal.

Peter sighed. How could he miss it? And what was he supposed to do?

'Neal, what did I say about your shenanigans?' Peter asked after a few minutes.

'That I would be in huge trouble if you found out about any of them.' mumbled Neal with his eyes still glued to the floor.

'Right. Any other rules you've broken lately?'

'Not going anywhere without telling you...'

'And what about lying, Neal?'

'Peter, I didn't...'

'So that wasn't a lie when you pretended that you spent all night in your room, when in fact you were pulling out of your criminal stunts?' asked Peter in a calm but rather stern voice. When he got silence in reply Peter took a deep breath, for what it seemed the hundredth time in the last ten minutes.

'That's what I thought, Neal. Have you any idea how worried we were when we opened the door and saw that you were gone? Elizabeth had a break down. I almost had a heart attack!' said Peter.

That moment Neal decided to glance at the agent, and immediately regretted, as the sudden wave of guilt washed over him. Peter wasn't angry any more. He was worried, concerned and disappointed. Since when did Neal care about what other people thought? And when has he started to worry about disappointing the fed? The teenager wished the earth would swallow him right that second.

'Neal, look at me, please.' when the teenager looked up, Peter continued. 'You leave me no choice, Neal. You are grounded for three weeks. That means no TV, no computer, no going out _anywhere._ And give me your phone.'

'Peter, please...' started the young con.

'Neal.'

One word. How could one word change things? Neal looked at the floor, defeated. Then he reached for his phone and handed it to Peter.

'This is serious, Neal. It's not only about me and my rules. Those people are dangerous. If you have anything else to add to your story, I will hear you out.' said Peter and went closer to Neal. He looked him in the eyes and said almost in a whisper. 'I know that you're hiding something and I will dig until I find what it is.'

 


	7. The first step is the most difficult one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you'll enjoy this chapter! Leave a comment, if you have a minute. Thanks for reading!

The curtains weren't closed completely, so playful sun rays quickly found their way into the bedroom of a peacefully sleeping teenager. Neal tried to hide from the light by covering his face with a pillow. But after a few minutes he understood that it was getting hard to breathe and decided that it would be better to suffer from the sun than from the lack of oxygen. After a few more useless attempts to get back to sleep, Neal opened his eyes. Maybe the sleep was gone, but it was still pleasant enough to lay in soft bed and not to hurry anywhere. No early morning's traffic, no stuffy offices and boring work, no cons and heists... Just a normal, calm Sunday morning.

Finally Neal got up and slowly made his way to the window. He raised the curtains, allowing the sun to get into even the most remote corners of the room. As soon as he opened the window, twittering of birds filled the room, making Neal to believe, just for a few seconds, that the window of his room faced a tropical forest and not the backyard of the Brooklyn's house. The air was fresh and clear after the last night's rain, the only evidence of which remained on the wet pavement and on some leaves of a huge oak. The raindrops were sparkling in the sun like small diamonds, making the old tree look even more majestic.

Neal took a deep breath, letting the energy of the summer's morning take over his whole body. After a few minutes he headed to the shower and washed away all the troubles, which didn't have any right for existence on such a beautiful day.

Neal went down the stairs and stopped for a few seconds. He closed his eyes. A rich smell of cinnamon and home baking seemed to hug you.

Elizabeth turned around as she heard Neal walking into the kitchen.

'Good morning, Neal!' said Elizabeth.

'Good morning, El!' replied Neal, sitting down at the table.

He heard that Elizabeth started talking about the amazing weather, but Neal wasn't really listening. He nodded a couple of times and agreed with everything she was saying. Neal wasn't thinking about anything, he was just enjoying every second of this perfect morning. He was watching as Elizabeth was gracefully moving around the kitchen. Neal felt that a huge childish smile appeared on his face. Nothing could be better...

But things got even better, when the front door opened. Neal heard Satchmo's happy barking and a few moments later he felt Peter's hand ruffling his hair.

'Morning, buddy.' said Peter, resting his hand on Neal's shoulder.

'Good morning.' replied the teenager and turned to face the agent.

Peter was wearing his baggy jeans and a T-shirt, which made him look, as Neal thought, more like a human, less like a federal agent.

'So, what are you talking about?' asked Peter, taking his seat near the young con, who was still thinking that it all was just too good to be true.

'I was just telling Neal that we are going shopping today.' said Elizabeth, putting some plates on the table and sitting beside her husband.

'No, you are not going anywhere.' replied Peter, looking directly at El.

Neal decided that it wasn't a very good time to say anything, but one of the best moments to get busy with eating pancakes, which were almost pleading him to put them in his mouth as soon as possible. He gave in to those 'pleadings' and in the meantime continued listening to Peter and El's little argument.

'El, he's grounded for three weeks. That's final. Your shopping trip can wait.' said Peter firmly.

'I've been postponing this for as long as I could. Have you seen what Neal has been wearing?' answered Elizabeth, not ready to give up.

Peter turned to the teenager, who was chewing and trying to smile at the same time. Neal's hair was a bit messy and his brilliant blue eyes were shining with pure happiness. Whether he enjoyed those pancakes so much, or was just trying to con the agent, Peter couldn't tell. All he knew that moment, was that Neal looked almost like a normal teenager in that oversized shirt.

'Looks fine to me.' said Peter, turning to his wife again.

'Oh, really? And since when are you a fashion expert?' asked El.

Before Peter could answer, Neal interfered.

'As much as I would like to comment on Peter's fashion choices...' began the teenager, earning a glare from the agent. 'I won't. El, I would love you to take me shopping, but I think Peter has a point. I messed up,  _really_ messed up.' finished Neal and looked down at the table. He would do anything not to go shopping!

Neal didn't see that, but Peter smiled at those words. He was glad that Neal understood why he was grounded.

Elizabeth knew her husband well and took her chance when she saw how Peter was looking at the teenager.

'Peter, he understands that what he did was wrong and is ready to face the consequences. Hon, I'm completely on your side here. Neal deserves to be punished. But shopping is not for fun, it's a necessity.' said Elizabeth and took Peter's hand. Then she continued. 'And, Neal, I know that you don't want to go, but you're not getting out of it.'

Neal lifted his eyes and looked at Elizabeth. How did she know that he was trying to avoid shopping? Then the young con looked at Peter, who was laughing quietly.

'Peter, it's not funny! Do something!' exclaimed Neal.

'Sorry, buddy. But I think El is right. You really need some clothes.' answered Peter, still laughing.

'It's decided then.' said El. 'Now, Peter, I recommend you to start eating, before Neal decides to empty that plate completely.'

'I'm still growing.' replied Neal, taking another pancake. 'Besides, teenagers are always hungry and I'm one of them.'

* * *

After the breakfast they drove to the store. El's eyes were shining with happiness. Neal was a handsome young man and it wasn't hard to find clothes for him. Three pairs of jeans, some T-shirts, five hoodies and four pairs of different shoes later, Neal was ready to fall asleep on the first bench he saw. Peter had the exact same thoughts, but Elizabeth was only starting "real shopping".

They went into another store with classical suits, expensive ties and amazing shirts.

'El, I don't think I need a suit.' said Neal. 'Peter on the other hand is in need of...'

'Neal, good clothes are like frames for the paintings. They don't mean anything without a painting. If the painting itself is awful, even the frame made of gold can't make it any better. A good painting without a frame people will notice eventually, but it will take some time. But put it in a frame and everything will change.' said El, taking some shirts. 'First, people see you, then they hear you talk and only after some time they can understand what kind of person you are. First impression is very important, sweetie.'

Finally Elizabeth chose some suits and handed them to astounded Neal along with the shirts.

'Neal, you're intelligent, you have good manners and charming looks. All you need is a good frame. Now go and try everything on.' said El.

When Neal was gone, Peter looked at his wife.

'Quite a speech you gave.' he said. 'But do you really think he needs that amount of "frames"?'

'Don't spoil the fun, Peter.' answered El, looking at some ties.

'Don't spoil the teenager.' replied Peter.

After Elizabeth was satisfied with Neal's new look, they went to the car, much to Peter's relief. The agent was ready to go home, but his wife had other plans.

'Turn on the 5th Avenue, will you?'

'Why?'

'I want to visit Maggie. I haven't seen her for quite a long time.' answered El.

'Maggie?' asked Peter, keeping his eyes on the road and grateful to all saints that there wasn't any traffic. 'The one that works at the store?'

'Yes.' replied Elizabeth and turned to Neal, who was looking out of the window. 'Sweetie, what do you think is the final detail to the gentleman's wardrobe?'

Neal opened his mouth to answer but Peter did it for him.

'Socks.' said the agent, turning on the 5th Avenue.

'Which reminds me...' said Elizabeth, looking for something in her bag. 'We got something for you as well, hon.'

Peter stopped the car at the traffic light and looked at the item in El's hands. His eyes lightened up as he saw a pair of blue socks with puppies.

'I knew you would appreciate, Peter.' said Neal, grinning at the agent.

Peter turned around to see that Neal was completely satisfied with himself.

'Good choice, buddy.' said Peter, driving along the road.

A few minutes later Elizabeth asked to stop the car. Neal glanced at the building, near which Peter parked the car, and was surprised to see JJ Hat Center.

The teenager got out of the car and went closer to the store. Neal thought that he could look at the fashionably arranged shop-window for hours.

'Wait until we get inside.' said Elizabeth and led Neal into the store.

Was it the reality or just his imagination talking, but Neal thought that even the door was a masterpiece. Once the teenager stepped inside, he felt like a child in a candy store. Only instead of lollipops and chocolate bars there were hundreds of different hats. Well-stocked shelves were full of hats of different sizes, colours and unique styles...

Neal was brought back to the reality when El introduced her friend.

'Neal, this is Maggie. She will be helping us today.'

'It's nice to meet you.' said Neal and smiled. He didn't understand why they needed her help, until Maggie started measuring his head.

Maggie was about El's age, but a lot shorter. She had short dark hair and deep brown eyes. Her small hands were moving swiftly and accurately, while she was taking the measurements. Maggie was focused on her work, but as soon as she was done, she smiled sweetly.

'Well, I can offer you a few very good hats.' said Maggie and went to one of the shelves. She returned with a small black hat.

'This is Bailey - "Silko-Stingy Diamond Porkpie hat". It's made of the 100% Premium Wool Felt with perforated side crown and removable feather.' she said giving the hat to Neal to try it on.

After trying on a few more hats, including the Classic English Trilby hat, Neal's eyes fell on a small black hat at the top shelf. He asked Maggie about it and the woman smiled.

'Oh, that, young man, is a Fedora.' said Maggie, taking a raven-black hat bound with a navy-blue trim-ribbon.

'It has a side-dented crown, the brim is 2,5 inches.'

Neal took the Fedora and put it on his head.

'Oh, sweetie! It's perfect.' exclaimed El.

Peter rolled his eyes, but still smiled when he saw Neal's expression. The teenager was always trying to hide every emotion, but right now he was shining.

'We'll take it.' said Elizabeth, too excited to say anything else.

The rest of the day was quiet and peaceful. Peter was enjoying his day off with his wife and Neal sat in the backyard doing some sketches.

* * *

The next week Neal was on his best behaviour. When Peter and Elizabeth went to work, the young con tried to do all the household chores. He was hoping that this would help to convince Peter to give him his cell phone back. Neal really needed to contact Mozzie. Of course it was much easier to snick out of the house, while the Burkes were at work, but Neal decided to do things differently. They were good people and deserved a better treatment.

Five days passed like this and Neal still wasn't loosing hope to get his precious way of communication back. Unfortunately, no such luck. Peter was always true to his word and at seemed there was no way of changing his mind.

So, on Friday evening, when Elizabeth returned from work, Neal took some of his paints and went to the backyard. He was a bit confused about his feelings and emotions. He always told himself not to trust anyone. If people are smiling, they need something. And when they need something, they will do anything to get it... But the Burkes seemed to be different. But Peter was a fed and maybe he was trying to trick Neal. On the one hand, it didn't make any sense, Neal told everything, almost everything, he knew about the museum heist and Keller and that was all, for what Peter was asking. On the other hand, Peter Burke was a federal agent and a person like Neal could never truly trust the fed...

Neal's head was ready to explode from all those thoughts. He needed to clear his mind. And painting was the best way to do it. It was his element, his passion and the best thing about painting was that nobody could take it away from him. People come into your life and then they leave, they lie and use you, they abandon you... But if you're good at something and enjoy doing it, do it. Do it, because it gives you shelter, it gives you hope and gives you strength to move on.

With those thoughts Neal began to work and didn't notice when Peter came home.

Peter felt like a hundred bulls ran over him. All that week they were trying to track down Keller, but he vanished into thin air. But Peter knew that Keller wasn't the biggest fish in the sea. There was someone else behind all of this and Peter was more than sure that this mysterious "someone" asked Neal and Mozzie to "observe". More than that there were other unsolved cases. Adler didn't appear on the horizon for quite a long time... Peter's sixth sense was telling him that it was just the calm before the tempest.

As soon as Peter walked through the front door Satchmo was there to greet him. The agent petted the dog and followed him into the living room, where Elizabeth was reading her book.

'Hey, hon.' said Peter, sitting down and kissing his wife.

'Hi, hon.' replied El. 'Tough day?'

'You have no idea.' said the agent. He took off his tie and rubbed his forehead. Peter closed his eyes as Satchmo sat down at his feet and El laid her head on his shoulder. At least at home everything was as it should be. A few seconds later Peter understood that not everything was in place, or rather not everyone.

'El, where's Neal?' asked Peter in alarm. He had enough problems as it is without adding to them a troublesome teenager.

'He's in the backyard, painting.' answered Elizabeth, gently rubbing Peter's back. 'Don't disturb him.'

Peter closed his eyes again but his own curiosity didn't let him rest. He saw Neal's "alleged" works, but he had never actually seen him painting. Peter stood up and quietly went into the backyard.

Neal was sitting on the bench and was completely engrossed in his work. A few bottles and tubes of paint were laying beside the teenager, but all in all everything looked clean and tidy. Who said that artists were messy? Peter even doubted that there was anyone in the office who had a better arranged working place than Neal.

The older man took a few steps forward to have a better look at his charge. Peter saw the real Neal Caffrey for the first time. He was focused, but there were no masks and no hidden feelings or emotions. He seemed to shine from within, but it was completely opposite from what Peter saw at the hat center. When Neal was trying on hats, his emotions could be compared to the fireworks: bright and loud. Now it was a different story. Neal was calm and attentive and if Peter decided to describe what he saw, he would say that it reminded him of a glow from gold: calm and expensive.

Neal stopped painting for a few moments and looked sceptically at his work. A drop of sweat appeared on his temple and he swiftly wiped it with his hand, on which there was some blue paint, that left a trace on the teenager's head. Neal raised his eyes and looked at the distant corner of the garden. He was about to get back to his painting, when he realised that someone was watching.

'Peter! Sorry, I didn't see you.' said Neal. That moment Peter thought that even Neal's voice was different. The teenager's tone was always cheerful with a hint of sarcasm. But now it was just like everything else: calm and quiet.

'Mind if I join you?' asked Peter quietly, not to disturb that special working atmosphere.

When Neal shook his head, Peter sat beside him and for a few minutes there was silence. But it wasn't in any way uncomfortable. In fact it seemed right for this occasion.

Neal was looking at one spot. No, not staring, but looking. Peter's eyes travelled in the same direction, but the agent couldn't see anything particular. There was just an old oak and El's small decorative pond with goldfish.

'I've been to a lot of places, Peter.' said Neal quietly, still looking at the oak. 'And I've never seen anything like that before. Maybe there wasn't much time to notice...'

For a few moments there was silence again and Peter didn't dare to break it. Finally Neal looked down at his painting and added a few lines. After that his eyes once again were glued to the picturesque corner.

'The light is falling perfectly right now and shadows from the tree form unique images, they seem almost magical...'

It seemed that Neal was talking to himself, but Peter knew that he was addressing him.

'And whoever made that pond is a genius.' continued Neal. 'The stones around the pond are all different. Different sizes, different colours and shapes. Just like in nature, there are no straight lines and perfect shapes. Everything is the way it should be... The sun rays are coming through the leaves and then they fall into the water. But it doesn't swallow them... They mix with each other... And crystal blue water becomes pink. But again, there are no clear boarders and you can't tell where blue becomes pink, or where pink vanishes into blue...'

Peter looked up at the sky. The sun was slowly retiring for the day, letting its last rays hide in their garden. He never thought about it, but the scenery was truly magnificent. The agent smiled when he remembered the day he built that pond. All the gardening tips said that you needed decorative stones, but Peter forgot about them and then there was not enough time and he took all the stones and rocks he could find in the backyard. El was away for the weekend and he really wanted to make something special for her... And maybe that puddle with rough rocks around it wasn't the most romantic present in history, but for them it was perfect.

'No straight lines and clear boarders... Just like in life...' whispered Neal.

Elizabeth was standing at the window, looking at her boys and smiling. The first step to understanding is made.


	8. You will never know if you never try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who is reading this story! It really means a lot! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter! Please, leave a review if you can! You'll spend only a few minutes, but it'll make my whole day... or even a whole MONTH!

After dinner Neal went to his room, leaving Peter and Elizabeth to talk.

'El, that boy really has a talent. And I am not talking about forgeries.' said Peter, helping his wife to wash the dishes. 'What I can't get is why he doesn't do any original works? Why copy others, when you can create something new?'

'He is young and has a whole life ahead of him. To create your own work you need to be sure about your position in life. Neal is still confused about it.' answered El.

'He's not like any other teenagers and he's definitely not the common criminal. He's a smart kid going down the wrong path. I told him that, when we first caught him. But now I believe that with a little guidance Neal will be a good man.'

'And I knew that the moment you brought that case file.' replied Elizabeth, hugging her husband. 'Don't worry. We'll be there for him. But both of you need to trust each other more.'

'I wish it was that simple. But with Neal things are never simple.'

Neal closed the door of the bedroom and turned around to see someone sitting at his desk.

'Mozzie! What are you doing here?' asked Neal. He was genuinely surprised to see his friend.

'Prisoners are allowed to have visitors.' replied Mozzie, as Neal sat down on the bed. 'And although I'm not overly excited about being in the fed's den, I have news that are worth it. I tried calling you, but your phone was off.'

'Peter took it away. And I'm starting to think that being grounded is worse than being in prison, Moz. You are not allowed to have visitors or to use a phone, or to surf the Net.'

'Harsh. For how long?'

'Two weeks left. Anyway, what's your big news?' asked Neal, who didn't want to discuss his punishment any longer.

'I've been working with Adler's men and there is a rumour going between them, that under the forgery, that we brought, is another painting.' said Mozzie.

'Another painting?! How is that possible?'

'It's a work of a professional. Under the layers of paint there is another painting. It's genius when you come to think about it.'

'Which painting is under that forgery, Moz?'

'I don't know. But something worth Adler's attention. And...'

Mozzie didn't have a chance to finish, because that moment they heard footsteps, coming in the direction of Neal's bedroom.

Mozzie and Neal shared an alarmed look and the short guy quickly hid in the closet. A few seconds later, Neal heard a soft knock and then Elizabeth went in.

'I just came to wish you a good night, sweetie.'

'Good night, El.' replied the teenager, trying to hide the beating of his heart.

Fortunately, Mrs Burke didn't notice anything unusual and left. Mozzie waited a few minutes before coming out.

'Don't you ever dust?' he asked with pretend anger in his voice. 'That was close.' added Mozzie after a short pause.

'Too close, if you ask me.' was Neal's reply.

'I should probably go, but before that I want you to know something.' Mozzie suddenly became very serious.

For a few seconds there was silence, during which Neal was wondering what happened. But the next words out of his friend's mouth excited and calmed him down at the same time.

'Johnny said there is a possibility that I will be trusted to take off the layers. If this is true, I will take care of it and meanwhile I don't want you to go anywhere near Adler. It's too dangerous, kid.'

Mozzie made his way to the window, but was stopped by Neal's voice.

'Johnny? Kate's father?'

'Yes.' was Mozzie's short reply.

'Then you'd better get your gloves ready. Johnny is Adler's right arm and he doesn't say anything, unless he knows for sure.' said Neal.

'Even better.' said Mozzie, climbing out of the window. 'And keep the window opened, I might want to visit again.' With those words Mozzie disappeared into the darkness of the moonless' night.

The next two weeks were pure torture for Neal. Every morning Neal watched as Peter got ready for work, wishing that the agent would have mercy and allow the young forger to go with him. That didn't happen, but Peter promised to tell if anything interesting happened at the bureau.

Neal managed to survive the rest of his "sentence" without getting into trouble. Mozzie still hadn't showed up and Neal decided that the next day after his "release" he would pay a visit to his friend.

Finally, the day Neal had been waiting for so impatiently came. There wasn't anything special about that day, but the teenager thought that the sun was shining brighter than usual and people seemed to smile, even if they didn't. The first thing in Neal's to-do list was to see Kate. He knew where Kate met with her friends, so it wasn't hard to find them.

Kate looked different from the last time Neal saw her. Her hair was pulled back and instead of a dress she was wearing jeans and a plain T-shirt. Her friends were mostly boys. Some of them were her age and others were older. There was only one other girl. She looked no older than ten and was standing near a tall guy, who Neal supposed was her brother. Teenagers were discussing something, when Neal approached.

'It's been a long time, guys.' said Neal, coming closer to the group.

'Aren't you supposed to be working as a snitch, Caffrey?' asked one of the teenagers, who was wearing ragged clothes and smoking a cigarette.

'Even if I got caught while pulling a big museum heist, doesn't mean it gives you freedom to insult me, Toby. At least I was trying to do something bigger and more interesting than pickpocketing, unlike you.' answered Neal as politely as he could, because he knew it frustrated people to no end.

Some of the guys started whistling, others were just watching what was going to happen next. One of the boys was thinking if Neal's phone was worth any effort of stealing it.

Toby threw away his cigarette, spitted on the ground and stood up from the rock he was half-sitting, half-laying. He was taller than Neal and much stronger. He lived on the streets for as long as he could remember, and such living conditions were cruel teachers. For Toby violence was the only way to survive. In a fair fight against Toby Neal didn't stand a chance, and he knew it. But he couldn't walk away now. Besides, Kate was there. He had to be a hero!

Toby stood opposite Neal and looked down on him.

'What did you just say, Caffrey?' he said in a warning tone, raising eyebrows and rolling up his sleeves.

'Don't pretend you didn't hear me. As far as I know you are not stone deaf.' answered Neal. If he was going to lose, he would at least do it with dignity.

'You little son of a...' roared Toby and raised his fist, but was stopped by another guys.

'If you beat a hell out of him now, there will be no fun at all. Let's see what he can do.' said the guy who was dressed if not by the latest fashion, but rather smartly. If you saw this guy on the street, you would never think he was a pickpocket: well-ironed jacket, polished shoes, erect posture.

'Get your hands off me, Prince.' barked Toby, but nevertheless took a few steps away from Neal.

The rest of the group stopped whistling and only one dark-skinned boy shouted.

'Stop yakking! Whale him away with both fists!'

Kate, who was watching silently the whole scene, finally decided to take control over the situation. She stood between Neal and Toby.

'What do you say, Neal? Will you join our little game today?' asked Kate, looking at Neal with a daring smile.

'Kate, you know that I can't.' answered Neal desperately.

All of the guys started whistling again. Through the noise Neal made out words like "idiot" and "wimp". That hurt his pride, but the young forger remained calm.

'Oooh! Isn't it just adorable?! You don't want to make your new parents disappointed? Poor thing! Go find yourself a corner to cry in. Need a tissue?' asked Kate, clearly enjoying making fun of Neal, who just for a second thought about turning around and walking away as far as possible. A roar of laughter arose and as soon as it stopped Kate continued. 'I think you don't know what it takes to be a real conman. You simply don't have the guts to be one.'

Neal looked Kate in the eyes. He could stand others making fun of him, but not Kate. She meant too much... Did she really think he is just a joke? He would prove that she is wrong. Neal's eyes were shining with pride, when he made his final decision.

'We'll see who will be crying in the corner. I'm in.'

The group headed to one of the streets. The only thing Kate said was that all the plunder should be given to her or Chuck. After their little business was done, they would divide the profits.

Neal knew only a few guys, including Toby and Chuck. Chuck was a thin young man, about seventeen years of age. He was always wearing a black leather jacket, regardless of the time of the year. It wasn't because he didn't have enough money to buy something else, it was more like his good luck charm. Chuck was very superstitious and would be out of the band in a few seconds, if he wasn't the best at what he did. And what he did was disappearing. No one knew how he did it and no one asked, but he could lose any tail, if needed.

Neal also heard stories about Prince, but met him in person for the first time. Nobody knew his real name, but he was called Prince for his ability to spot and steal the most expensive watch. He was accurate in everything, whether it was work or his appearance.

There were also twins, whose names Neal couldn't remember. They used their identical looks to confuse people and easily robbed them.

Chuck, as gloomy as he was, was rather friendly. Neal knew him for almost a year, so he asked about others.

'That dude in a blue shirt is Jacob. He joined us a couple of months ago. I don't know his story, but he came with that little girl, Rebecca. They were kinda a package deal. They are not related, but they are always together... But you know our rules. As long as you do your job, no one asks you anything.' said Chuck.

'And who is that blond guy?' asked Neal.

'That is Sammy – the golden boy. You see, he comes from a good family. His folks have their own business. No idea what he's doing with us. Maybe because of the excitement. What I know is that he is good. You'll see it yourself.'

Neal wanted to ask about other guys, but by that time they needed to go in different directions, in order to take their places. As soon as everybody was ready, the show began.

Rebecca fell down and made a scene out of it. She was sitting on the ground crying with crocodile tears and telling how much her mommy would be angry, when she found out that she ruined a new satin dress. A lot of people gathered around "the poor child". While Rebecca bought everyone's attention, Jacob cleaned their pockets. He did it quickly and carefully, and a few seconds later a bunch of wallets, rings and golden chains were passed to Chuck, who didn't take much time to make his disappearing act.

Meanwhile, the twins were working their magic on the other side of the road. One of them bumped into the lady and making excuses vanished into the crowd. His brother appeared from another direction and bumped into the same woman. The look on the woman's face was priceless. While she was distracted, the twins did their job.

At the same time, the guy who was encouraging Toby for the fight, went into the shop. A few minutes later he appeared again and passed something to Kate, who quickly went around the corner.

Neal was watching at the whole scene in front of him with fascination and even respect. Everybody knew their parts in the play and did everything exactly as it was planned. It was truly a work of the team, where each and everyone mattered. Neal looked at them for a few moments , excited to see how much they all enjoyed their performance. And then it was time to join.

A few movements and a couple of people couldn't find their wallets. A charming smile – and a few jewellery pieces are in Neal's pockets. The young con was on the roll. Five minutes later he saw Kate and gave everything to her. The girl smiled and for Neal it was the biggest reward.

The game went on, but soon Neal noticed two familiar men, buying coffee. The teenager needed to find a way to warn the rest of the guys and not to get in trouble himself with the certain FBI agent and his colleague. Without much thinking he started running along the street.

'STOP! FBI!' he shouted. The guys got his warning and quickly ran away in different directions. As soon as all of the members of the group were gone, Neal made his way to Peter and Jones, who were standing in the middle of the street, shocked by what just happened.

'Why didn't you run after them?' asked Neal, coming closer to Peter and pretending to breathe hard.

'After whom?' asked Jones.

'Those guys! I saw them stealing wallets but I was too far to do anything. Then I noticed you and thought you would help.' answered Neal, hoping that it was a good enough story.

'Good job, buddy.' said Peter, patting Neal's shoulder.

'Yeah, really good job, Peter. We didn't catch anyone!' replied Neal.

'But you still stopped the crime in progress.'

Neal put a smile on his face and looked at both of the agents. Peter had a proud look in his eyes and Jones was smiling in approval.

Neal felt bad about lying to Peter, but it was only before he thought about Kate. She wouldn't be making fun of him after what he did. In fact, no one would! He saved the day! Neal was brought back to the reality, when Peter asked something about ice cream.

'No, I'm good, Peter. Thanks for asking. I'm just going to visit some friends.' said the young forger.

'Ok. But I expect you to be home by dinner.'

'Sure.'

Neal had little faith to find Kate and her friends at the same place they met earlier. But, surprisingly, they were there. The teenagers started whistling and shouting, when they saw Neal. Only this time it was different.

'Not bad, Caffrey.' said Toby.

'You saved the whole operation.' said Kate, taking Neal's hand. 'I take my words back.' she whispered him in the ear and kissed him on the cheek.

After that guys started asking questions.

'Did the feds get you?'

'How did you notice them?'

'Did they chase you?'

Finally Neal heard Rebecca's voice.

'How did you get away?' she asked, looking at Neal with her big grey eyes.

The teenager sat down, so that his eyes were at the same level with the girl.

'Remember this, Rebecca. A true conman never reveals his secrets...' said Neal, giving a golden chain to the girl. It got lost in his pocket, when he was passing the jewellery to Kate. Rebecca smiled gratefully and Neal got up.

The forger took a few steps, so that he was standing in front of the pile of wallets. He looked at Rebecca and then at the rest of the group.

'But he can always be proud of his success.' said Neal, throwing a brown wallet on the top of the pile. 'Not every day you have a chance to "borrow" a wallet of a federal agent.'

That little speech made a triumph. Rebecca clapped her hands and guys started cheering. But most importantly Neal got Kate's attention again.

After the profits were divided and Neal was given the fed's wallet as a reward, to which he was grateful as it was in his plans to return the wallet to Jones, the band decided that it was worth a celebration. Sammy's folks were out of the city for a few days, so they could hang out in his mansion. Neal was invited as well.

'We'll meet you here, at midnight.' said Kate. 'Don't be late, Neal.'

The rest of the day Neal spent daydreaming about Kate and waiting to see her again. The young con didn't hear when Peter was proudly telling El about Neal's "good deeds".

When night came and the Burkes went to bed, Neal opened the window and quietly left the room, not thinking about anything, but the amazing chance to be closer to Kate.

* * *

In the morning Peter got a call from the bureau, telling that there was a new lead on Keller's case. The agent decided to take Neal with him and went to wake him up. Peter knocked on the door but when there was no response, went in.

'That boy is going to be the death of me.' muttered Peter through gritted teeth, shutting the door of the empty bedroom.


	9. Things you don't want to tell yourself

When Neal met with the gang, he was a bit disappointed to hear that Kate would come later. Nevertheless, the ride to Sammy's house was more than friendly, something that Neal didn't expect. The profit from their "game" was great and all of the guys were in good spirits.

Neal thought that there would be only those, who were somehow involved in the band, but when they arrived at the party there were a lot of people. A few cars were parked outside the house and Neal noticed a young couple kissing passionately in one of them. It looked like the party had just started, but there were already a couple of beer bottles strewn across the lawn. The music was so loud, it could be easily heard outside the house.

All of the guys went inside and Neal followed them into a big room. The moment the young forger stepped into the room, his head began spinning. It was very stuffy and the air was filled with the smells of alcohol, girls' perfume and body sweat all mingled together. Neal let his eyes adjust to the dim light and then had a better look at his surroundings. At first Neal thought that there were too many people and chaos was the King of the party, but then he saw that most of the youngsters were divided into groups, depending on what they were doing. Of course there were people, who were so drunk that they were just hanging around, stumbling on the furniture and bumping into others. Most of the teenagers were dancing or at least they were making moves that were supposed to be dancing. A group of guys was standing at the table, mixing drinks, while another group was playing cards. Shouting and laughter were everywhere as well as the girls in short skirts and open tops.

Neal looked around and saw that the guys he came with were nowhere to be seen. He tried to find a familiar face in the crowd but then the teenager felt the collar of his shirt being pulled. He turned and saw two girls in front of him. The one, who was holding his collar, had a bright red lipstick on her lips, which Neal saw even in the dark.

'Hey, handsome.' she said. 'Wanna have some fun?'

Neal was looking for the right words to decline the girl's offer, but was saved by Toby.

'Sorry, ladies. But we need this guy.' said Toby, leading Neal away from the girls.

'Not bad, dude. You came only a few minutes ago and girls are already flying around you. But leave some chicks to us too, will ya?' said Toby.

A few moments later Toby and Neal were standing among a big group of guys, where the host of the party was as well. Sammy was a handsome young man, about twenty years of age, with blond hair. He was tall and muscular.

'Neal, is it?' asked Sammy and when the forger nodded, continued. 'You must have a very good eye if you noticed those feds. I got on the other side of the street and wasn't lucky enough to witness what happened. How did you know they were feds?'

'FBI has been chasing me for a long time. Not all of the agents know me, but I know all of them, so it wasn't hard to recognize them on the street. Then I did my best to warn you.' answered Neal.

'When he started to run, he winked at me and I got the message to the guys on the other side of the road. And Neal took care of the rest.' said Chuck, sipping something that smelled really bad from the glass.

'We're going to play.' said Sammy, nodding in the direction of the poker table. 'Join us?'

Neal didn't even consider the possibility to say "no".

After the first round, which Neal won with no difficulty, Toby offered to make things a bit more exciting and put money on the table. Three more rounds, and most of the guys were ready to take Caffrey to the dark corner for a private chat between their fists and Neal's face. Neal wasn't stupid enough to continue the game and made a move to leave the table.

'You're such tough players, guys! I'd better go get something to drink.' said Neal, standing up.

Nobody protested and Neal decided that it was time to go outside. He was still waiting for Kate to show up and wasn't ready to leave the party, but to get some fresh air sounded like a good idea. On his way out he bumped into Prince, who was high on something and had eyes of a mad man.

'Hey, dude!' he half-said, half-hiccuped, almost falling on Neal. 'You wanna some?'

Neal glanced at what looked like a hand-made cigarette and helped Prince to sit down on the stairs.

'No, thanks. Smoking is not my thing, I was going to get a drink.' said Neal and left, before Prince could answer.

Neal stood near the house not sure what to do next, when he saw a group of teenagers shouting and cheering. He went closer and saw that they were playing some kind of game. People, who gathered to watch, were shouting "how low can you go?". Neal made his way through the crowd and saw two girls, holding a stick. A guy was trying to go under it and when he accomplished the task, the third girls appeared and handed him a drink.

'Can I try?' asked Neal and when the girls nodded, he "limbo-ed" under the pole.

When he got up, he felt that blood rushed to his head and his vision became blurry from a sudden position change. A couple of seconds later he saw a girl in a short black skirt handing him a glass filled with muddy liquor.

He took a glass and drank its contents as quickly as he could, because the taste was awful. Neal didn't know if all alcohol drinks tasted that bad, and if they did, he had no idea why people were drinking this stuff. But as a sudden warmth spread all over his body and all the feelings became sharper, he understood why. It was because after the bitter taste came the supposed freedom. It seemed that you were free in every sense: you were free to do whatever you wanted, you were free from all the troubles and you were free from everything that was bothering you, because at that moment all you could think about was the fast beating of your heart...

The girls held the stick lower and invited Neal to try again. With drunkenness taking over his body Neal felt as confident as ever. He easily passed the obstacle and was rewarded with another glass of a nasty liquor, which he swallowed with the same speed as the first one. He immediately felt blood rushing through his veins. He heard the crowd cheering and whistling, but he had no care in the world. Neal asked the girls to lower the stick and ducked under it again, and again with success. He took another glass and felt even better.

Neal repeated those actions until he couldn't stand on his feet properly. The teenager felt being pulled away as he was about to get another drink.

'Hey! I could...' Neal started saying but stopped when he realised who was in front of him. 'Kate.' Neal whispered, staring at the girl.

Kate was dressed in a short silver-coloured sparkling dress without sleeves. If an older girl wore such dress, it would look vulgar. But Kate was young and had a good figure, besides she came to a teenage party not to the museum. She was also wearing black shoes on high heels and had a matching black bag in hands. Kate's hair was pulled up and only one unruly lock of hair fell down on her shoulder. Neal never saw Kate wear so much make up, but because of his condition he couldn't even understand whether he liked it or not. But Neal decided that he had to like it because the moment he saw Kate, his heart, which was already beating extremely fast from the amount of alcohol he drank, was ready to jump out of his chest. He must have stood with his mouth opened for a long time, as soon he heard Kate's concerned voice.

'Neal?! Are you alright?'

'I... yeah... it's... just... you look st-stunning. Stunning!' mumbled Neal, still trying to be a gentleman and trying his best to say a compliment, not the perfect one but still a compliment.

'Come on. I think you need to wash your face and have some water.' said Kate, taking Neal's hand gently.

'Wait! I'm sooo good at this stuff. You need to see "how low can I go-o", Kate.' said Neal trying to lead Kate back.

'I have already seen that. You're awesome.' said the girl, trying to pull Neal away. 'And you've had enough. I need you alive tonight.'

Those words had a magical effect on Neal and he allowed Kate to drag him into the house, and who wouldn't?  _She needed him..._

Neal didn't think that anything could help him because he wasn't just drunk, he was ill. And a terrible disease he caught was called "LOVE". Water and some fresh air couldn't help him, how couldn't they all understand that?!'

But surprisingly, a few minutes later Neal did feel better. Ok, maybe alcohol had not such a good effect and it wasn't all because of his feelings.

Neal and Kate went outside again and sat on the lawn.

'Sorry about that.' said Neal, looking in the distance and avoiding to look Kate in the eyes.

'It's fine, Neal.' answered Kate.

They were sitting and listening to the music, coming from the house and looked at people, who were going past them every second. Neal's head was still spinning and he felt that he needed to say something, but he knew the moment he opened his mouth, words would get mixed and he would be embarrassed even more. But then Neal decided that he had nothing to lose.

'Kate,' he said, slowly standing up. 'I want to show you something.'

The girl looked up at him and let Neal help her to stand up. Neal led Kate to the back of the house. Neal looked up and Kate's eyes followed his.

'Really, Caffrey? The balcony?' asked Kate laughing. Then she came closer and whispered. 'I must disappoint you. I am not Juliette.'

Kate was so close now, that Neal could hear her breathing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting her strong perfume drive him crazy for a moment. Then he took her hand and went to the tree. Kate glanced at Neal questioningly and after he nodded, she took off her shoes.

It was easy for both of them to climb the tree, because both of them weren't doing it for the first time. Neal was the first to jump on the balcony and then he helped Kate. He took her around the waist and carefully lifted her from the tree. Once again she was near, but Neal didn't waste any second and when Kate was firmly standing at the balcony, he pulled her closer and whispered into her ear.

'And I'm not Romeo.'

His lips were almost touching Kate's ear. She felt his arms on her shoulders and his rapid breathing against her neck...

Kate allowed Neal to pull her even closer, but then pushed him away and took a few steps towards the door.

'I think that you found the right balcony.' said Kate, taking off the hair-pin and letting the curls fall on her naked shoulders. Then she opened the door, which led into a spacious bedroom and still not turning away from Neal, walked in. Neal was lost in Kate's blue eyes, which sometimes could be as cold as ice, but now they reminded Neal an ocean: dangerous and tempting. Once you have touched the water, you will always be the hostage of the powerful and full of mysteries depths of the ocean.

Neal followed Kate, afraid to take his eyes off her. She was like a dream, so close and so far at the same time...

Neal understood that she wasn't a dream, when she stopped and he was standing near her again. The young forger felt Kate pulling him closer. He heard her heart beating... Then her soft lips touched his... Neal though that his heart suddenly grew larger and filled his whole body. Blood rushed to his head. Nothing existed anymore. Only Kate. And she was his. She was in his power...

Neal put his arms against Kate's waist and turned her around, so that now her back was facing the wall. He felt Kate's hands unbuttoning his shirt and that second their lips parted, only to meet again in a more passionate kiss. Neal's hands were getting lower and lower, and he didn't notice how his lips started kissing Kate's neck. Neal heard Kate moaning, when he pressed her against the wall and she lifted her right leg...

Before anything could happen, the door of the bedroom opened.

'What the hell are you doing, Caffrey?!' shouted Sammy, bursting into the room and pushing Neal away from Kate. That second a few other guys appeared. Kate sat down on the bed and watched the scene in front of her as it was some kind of a soap opera.

'If you had stolen my car, I would be furious. But I'd understand that.' continued shouting Sammy and with the help of his friends backing Neal into the corner. 'But when you touch my girl... This time you crossed the line, Caffrey!' with those words he punched Neal in the face, causing his nose to bleed.

'She's not YOUR girl!' barked Neal and gathering all his strength, or rather the remainders of what alcohol didn't take, hit his offender.

'Gotta teach him a lesson.' said Sammy and kicked Neal in the stomach. The forger fell down and for the next few minutes, all he could feel was sharp pain under his ribs, as Sammy and his friends continued kicking him. Then Sammy took Neal by his collar and dragged him through the house. They walked across the street and then Neal felt being turned around. Sammy punched Neal in the jaw and with some help threw him into the bushes.

Neal saw how Kate ran into Sammy's arms and how he kissed her... Then they left, laughing...

* * *

Mozzie glanced at his watch. 8 a. m. Good. The Suit definitely left for work and even if Mrs Suit was still at home, she would let him see Neal. At first Mozzie was planning to visit his friend using his usual entrance – the window, but then decided that since Neal was a free man, it would be nice to come through the door for a change.

Mozzie knocked and heard footsteps as well as the barking of the dog. A few seconds later El opened the door.

'Ne... oh, Mozzie...' she said.

Mozzie was about to reply, but that moment Peter stormed from the kitchen. His face was red and Mozzie could feel tension in the air. The agent went past his wife, opened the door wider and pulled Mozzie inside, not forgetting to shut the door with more force than needed.

'Where is he?' asked Peter, addressing Mozzie. His voice was quiet, but not calm at all. The agent himself was like a lion, getting ready to jump, but waiting for the right moment, in order not to frighten its prey.

'Not the best interrogation technique, Suit.' answered Mozzie. 'Even if I choose to answer, I won't be able to do that, because I don't know what you are talking about. And above all, I have a right to remain silent.

'Where is Neal, Mozzie?!' finally exploded Peter.

'I suppose you should check his room. If it's locked, than a key should be an answer to all your problems.' said Mozzie, meanwhile trying to remember if Neal mentioned anything about going out.

Peter looked like he was about to straggle Mozzie, so before something irreparable happened, Elizabeth took control over the situation.

'Mozzie, there is no time for jokes. Yesterday Neal went out to visit his friends, in the evening he returned. Everything was fine, so he had no reason to run away. But in the morning Peter found his room empty.' explained El. 'Did you meet with him yesterday?'

'No. That's why I'm here today. If the mountain will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain.' replied Mozzie.

'Where's the mountain, Mahomet?!' barked Peter, pacing across the room. Then he stopped, all colour drained from his face. 'El, maybe he didn't run away? What if Keller got him? We know for sure that he's back in town...'

'I don't think that's the case, although Keller is capable of such things.' said Mozzie. 'You should check out your theory, Suit. And I shall work on mine... I might have some ideas about Neal's whereabouts.' said Mozzie, heading to the door. 'We'll keep in touch.'

When Mozzie left, Peter decided that there was no use in sitting at home and went to the office, where he was more than happy to find out that Keller couldn't possibly have anything to do with Neal, because he was busy organizing another heist. But the agent was still worried. There was nothing he could do, except waiting for Mozzie to find Neal, who wasn't Peter's only concern. Peter and his team went to the stake out, in hopes to catch Keller red-handed.

* * *

While Peter was making attempts to fight crime, Mozzie was pulling up a car near Sammy's house. The short guy went out and looked around. Not a soul was in sight and there were no noises, except for the sound of thunder and upcoming rain. It was unusually hot and you could feel the smell of dust in the air. Dark clouds were covering the sky and it looked like their load was becoming too heavy to handle. Any minute now water could break out from its air prison, spilling on the suffering ground and washing away all the misery.

Mozzie made a few steps further and stopped when he heard sounds coming from the bushes. He went in the direction and what he saw wasn't the most picturesque sight.

Neal was sitting on the ground. His hair was matted and his shirt was ragged, with evidence of a bloody nose all over it. His appearance reminded more of a homeless person, who had been out on the streets all his life and lost every hope of gaining a normal life, than of a good-humoured and blithesome young man, who still hadn't seen the life in its whole beauty.

'Neal.' said Mozzie, coming closer to his friend.

Neal looked around and when his eyes met Mozzie's, the heart of an older guy almost broke. But Mozzie quickly recovered and helped Neal to get up. Without any words he led him to the car. Mozzie was about to start driving, when he remembered something and took out his phone. While he was dialling the number, Neal spoke for the first time. His voice was quiet and emotionless.

'How did you find me?'

'From all the questions you choose to ask this one, kid? I have my sources and although I had to pay a certain price...' Mozzie didn't finish, because that moment he heard Peter's voice on the other side of the line.

'Burke.'

'Found Neal. We're on our way.' said Mozzie.

'I'll be at home in forty minutes. Stay with him.' answered Peter, grabbing his jacket and finishing the conversation.

Mozzie started the car and drove slowly away from Sammy's house. He glanced at Neal and by his expression guessed that his young friend wasn't in the mood for a conversation. But Mozzie decided that it couldn't wait.

'Talk.'

'There is nothing to tell, Moz.' said Neal, starring at one spot on the window.

'I think there is. I came today to see you only to learn that you decided to play Tom Sawyer.' answered Mozzie and when he didn't get any response, continued. 'I got the job done and now I know what is under the forgery.'

That statement got Neal's attention, but before he could say anything, Mozzie continued.

'But now I wonder if I can trust you with that knowledge. It was because of Kate, wasn't it? Neal, that girl won't do you any good. You need to stay focused and keep your head in the game. I bet it will only take her to wink, before you tell her all your secrets.'

'I haven't told her anything.' whispered Neal.

'That's because she hadn't asked you. Now, what happened?' asked Mozzie.

After Neal briefly told Mozzie what happened, Mozzie shook his head.

'I could have said that you gained priceless life experience, but I agree with Oscar Wilde. Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes. It was a huge mis...'

'Moz, stop the car!' cried Neal.

'Don't...'

'Mozzie!'

The older guy looked at his friend and quickly stopped the car, when he saw that Neal's pale face now turned green. As soon as the vehicle stopped, Neal climbed out.

Mozzie went out and stood by Neal's side, while the teenager was vomiting.

Soon they heard the sound of thunder and saw a lightning, illuminating the sky. Just a few moments later, it started raining heavily. The water droplets began growing larger and in a matter of seconds the water curtain fell, covering the city. People rushed inside the buildings and only a few didn't hurry anywhere, including the strange couple of guys, who we are now talking about.

When Neal was done, Mozzie helped him to get back into the car. The teenager was shivering and had barely enough strength to sit.

'What were you drinking?' asked Mozzie, driving even more slowly, as the rain continued drumming, falling into a steady rhythm.

'I don't know what it was...' said Neal closing his eyes. He felt awful, both physically and mentally. And although Neal knew that the headache would soon wear off, he had no idea, what would be able to fill that emptiness inside his chest. He felt like a dark abyss opened inside him and it was eating away everything good, that ever happened to him. Neal had already passed the stage, when he was angry and wanted to destroy everything. Now there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. No feelings. No emotions. No hopes for the bright future. And no one cared...

'Don't do this to yourself, Neal.' said Mozzie. 'You deserve better than this. I understand you. You wanted to know what it felt like to be in a company of friends and people of your age, you wanted to impress the girl you like. But those people, Neal, they are not right for you. I don't judge them. They are not bad, but they are different. Maybe you don't want to admit it, but a friend, and I dare to consider myself your friend, can tell you things you don't want to tell yourself. You need to let those people go, if you want to find the right people.'

Mozzie glanced at Neal and when he noticed that the teenager, despite his current state, was still listening, continued.

'A human being is given only one life, mon frère. One. And you can choose whether you want to spend it in dirt and misery, or, if not in luxury, than at least happily and brightly. There are so many interesting places in the world. New York is great city, but the world doesn't stop here... Wonderful architecture, magnificent nature, interesting people, astonishing cultures, marvelously tasty food... If you want to be happy, than remember this. Drink only the best wine, when you decide to drink alcohol. Talk only with people, who have at least a hint of respect for you. And ALWAYS respect yourself and acknowledge your talents.

It's a good thing that you got into this situation. You are standing at crossroads and have to decide what you want. And I'll tell you this. It's much more enjoyable to see life as a pleasure. And pleasure hides in details. Good wine, for instance. Its taste, its smell and colour... everything counts. And if you choose wisely, a glass of wine can save your soul. Wine, mon frère, is bottled poetry. You raise a glass, to see its contents in the light, and this is when magic begins. The whole world stops and your eyes try to explore the mysteries of the divine drink. And the most important thing is that you can't drink a lot. In vino veritas, which means in wine there is truth, and too much truth, too much trouble.

And everything should be like wine. Good books, good society. It's not the quantity that matters, but quality. As Molière said, great is the fortune of he, who possesses a good bottle, a good book, a good friend. And everything stands in singular form. It's like a painting. There may be many copies, but the original is only one.'

Mozzie stopped and glanced at Neal once more.

'Are you even listening to me? Neal?'

'No. I'm not listening. But I hear you.' answered Neal.

'Good. That means your subconscious understands me. And, hopefully, it will help you to make better choices.' said Mozzie. He continued talking, although it seemed like he was talking more to himself. 'Life doesn't always consist of problems, Neal. You have good chances to make your life spectacular. All you need to understand is that happiness is a way of life, not a destination. Let yourself be happy.'

Mozzie stopped talking and the rest of the way was spent in silence. Only the splashing of the water under the wheels of the car and droplets of rain falling down from the sky were breaking this silence. Finally, Mozzie stopped the car in front of the Burkes' house.

'And Neal.' said the older guy and waited for the teenager to look at him. 'No matter what happens, your family will always be there for you. Appreciate those people.' finished Mozzie, showing Neal Peter's car, which was parked near the house.

Suddenly, a huge wave of emotions swept over Neal. He opened the door and rushed into the house.

Peter had just arrived and was still standing near the door, when Neal ran inside. The agent felt wet arms hugging him and soon Neal's whole body was next to his. Neal buried his head in Peter's chest and mumbled.

'I'm sorry.'

 


	10. Well begun is half done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody for reading! Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Hope you'll enjoy the chapter.

Neal buried his head in Peter's chest and mumbled.

'I'm sorry.'

* * *

To say that Peter was surprised is to say nothing. He stood, trying to understand what was happening, but before his mind could register what was going on, his hands were hugging Neal back and his voice was saying that everything was ok. How could he say such things?! Everything was NOT OK. Neal ran away, he got El worried and Peter was angry. Well, at least he had been angry a few seconds ago, before Neal made such an appearance. Maybe that teenager was trying to con him... But all of those thoughts vanished, when Neal looked up at Peter.

'Oh, God! Neal, who did this to you?' exclaimed Peter, taking the teenager's chin and softly turning his head to have a better look at the black eye.

'This is so not fair, Peter! I came to you, finally admitting that I was wrong and sorry and you're threatening me with that thing again! This is all Mozzie's fault! He and his stupid speech made me... I don't deserve that!' with tears of resentment, avoiding Peter's direct question and looking at the slipper, the agent was holding in his left hand.

Peter looked confused and was struggling to find the right words to answer.

'I... That wasn't what I was... I came home just a few minutes ago and was about to take off my shoes and to put my slippers on... And don't avoid my question, Neal! What happened?! I want the truth! NOW!'

Mozzie found the right moment to come in.

'Don't rush anything, Suit. When the time is right, it'll happen.' said the short guy, coming into the house.

'If we wait until we're ready, we'll be waiting for the rest of our lives.' replied Peter, much to Mozzie's surprise.

'Lemony Snicket. Nice one, Suit. But...'

'Guys... I'm not feeling so good.' interrupted Neal before Mozzie got carried away.

'I'll take care of this.' said Peter, taking Neal's arm and motioning for Mozzie to sit down. 'Stay put.'

Mozzie murmured something about not remembering being put anywhere in the first place, but Peter didn't hear him as he was leading Neal upstairs.

Some time later Peter was back. He went straight into the kitchen and Mozzie didn't wait for an invitation to follow. They both sat at the table and spent a few awkward minutes in silence.

'Neal will be fine. And for that, I need to thank you.' said Peter.

'No need for that. I did that for my friend. Before I leave, there is something you should know, though.' answered Mozzie and told Peter what he learned from Neal about the events of the previous night, not without leaving some facts out.

'Don't be too hard on him. Neal's been through enough already.' concluded Mozzie, standing up.

'Thank you for your help, Mozzie.' said Peter, stretching his hand for a handshake.

'I won't admit to assisting a Suit. Otherwise, my reputation would never recover.' replied Mozzie, nevertheless shaking Peter's hand.

Neal woke a few hours later. At first he couldn't understand where he was and even assumed that he was still at Sammy's mansion, but soon the events of the last night got in order. Mozzie brought him home and then there was Peter, helping him to get upstairs... And then he must have fallen asleep.

Neal looked around and saw that the curtains were shut, but the dim evening light was streaming through them. The teenager got out from under the blanket, with which someone must have carefully covered him, but remained sitting on the edge of the bed. The door of his bedroom wasn't completely closed and he could hear hushed voices.

Neal tried to stand up and immediately found out that it was the worst idea that occurred his mind. Well, maybe drinking God knows what was the worst idea, but standing up was definitely the second in row.

Thoughts about Kate flooded his mind. He was always right about not trusting anyone and was a fool for making an exception. Neal believed, or maybe just convinced himself, that Kate was different, that she was special. People say that eyes are the mirror of the soul and Kate's eyes were so kind, so innocent... What if she went with Sammy to protect Neal?! What if he was making a huge mistake by thinking that she betrayed him? Eyes never lie, and Kate's eyes were telling Neal that she loved him...

The door slightly opened and Elizabeth looked inside, bringing Neal back to earth.

'Hi, sweetie. May I come in?' asked El, turning the lights on.

'Of course, El.' replied Neal. Hardly finding the voice to speak.

She sat down beside Neal and looked at him.

'Never thought that I would see the guy, whom FBI couldn't catch for three years, with a black eye and such nasty bruises.' said El, using Neal's technique and hiding her worries beneath the smile.

Neal smiled back, but Elizabeth saw that he was broken. Like every good mother, Elizabeth wanted to hug her baby, make a fuss about how badly hurt he was and then to never let him go away from her side. But like a wise woman, El understood that the situation was delicate and that "the baby" was almost an adult. Almost. He needed guidance and advice, not a cocoon from fluffy pillows.

'Men always have scars, but remind me to teach you self-defense.' said El.

'You can fight?!' asked Neal in amazement, looking up at Elizabeth.

'Oh, yeah! She knows some fighting techniques!' said Peter, appearing at the door with hot chocolate and biscuits on the tray. He put the tray on the bedside table and sat down near El.

'On one of our first dates, I took El to the self-defense class. I'm a trained FBI agent and wanted to make a good impression. But El made quite a good impression on me instead.' said Peter, rubbing his back and looking at Elizabeth lovingly.

'First, she was standing beside me, listening to the instructor attentively. The next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor with El's gorgeous eyes looking at me from above. For a split second I thought I died and was in heaven.'

El started laughing and Neal didn't waste a perfect opportunity to tease Peter.

'No wonder you couldn't catch me for so long.' said Neal, laughing as well.

'El's smile is the only thing to blame.' answered Peter. 'She is just too pretty to throw on the ground.'

'You lost. I won. Get over it.' replied Elizabeth, kissing her husband.

They continued chatting for about twenty minutes, but then the knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

'That's Diana and Jones.' said Peter standing up.

Neal stayed with Elizabeth in the bedroom, but soon decided that he needed to greet the agents. El didn't protest and Neal went to the living room. Three agents were sitting at the table, loudly discussing the details of the case.

'Then the stake out wasn't as useless as we first assumed.' Neal heard Peter saying, while the teenager was slowly coming downstairs. 'Keller won't get away this time.

Unfortunately, there weren't any steps left. Neal couldn't listen to the conversation further and went into the room.

'Good evening.' said Neal, making everyone turn around.

'Hey, Neal.' replied Jones, putting some files into his briefcase. 'It's quiet without you in the office.'

'Caffrey must have pissed you off big time, boss.' said Diana, looking at Neal's face.

'Nope. Wasn't me. Neal got into a fight.' answered Peter, before Neal could even open his mouth.

'Teenagers.' laughed Clinton and Diana at the same time.

Peter and Jones went to the door. Clinton was telling that he had lost his wallet and now had to put everything in his pockets. At those words Peter turned and glanced at Neal, who was talking with Diana.

'Do something like what you did last night again, Caffrey, and I will personally advise Peter to put bars on your window.' said Diana. 'Clear?'

'Yes, agent Berrigan.' replied Neal and flashed his smile, like a Cheshire cat.

Diana shook her head, and catching up with Jones left.

In the morning Neal woke up early and got dressed as quickly as he could. Peter said that he could stay at home for a few days, but Neal knew that he would feel so much worse, if he stayed alone with his thoughts. Besides, he needed to return Jones' wallet...

A few hours later Neal wanted to punch himself for convincing Peter to take him to the bureau. Peter went to another stake out to catch Keller, leaving Neal to sort files under supervision of one of the junior agents.

* * *

Meanwhile, Peter and his team were storming into the building. The operation went as planned and they got Keller, when he cracked the high-secure safe and stole the painting. The painting itself wasn't a famous masterpiece, and even Peter who wasn't an expert on arts, could tell that it wasn't worth a lot of money. There were only two items drawn on the painting: an old looking wooden table and a fan., which was laying on the table. There wasn't anything particular about that painting, but why it was under such security the agents had no idea.

Peter went into the interrogation room and sat opposite Keller.

'Matthew Keller.' said Peter.

'Agent Burke.' replied Keller, smiling.

There was something about that smile, that annoyed Peter to no end, but he got his emotions under control and proceeded.

'You'd better start talking, Keller. Why do you need that painting?'

'It's a piece of art and I could sell it for a lot of money.' said Keller.

'Cut the crap. We know that it isn't worth more than five thousand dollars.'

'I can find a buyer, who doesn't know it. Have you seen modern art? There isn't much art in it, but it's sold for millions.' remarked Keller, speaking a little above whisper, so Peter had to listen carefully.

'Listen, we've got enough evidence for your arrest and I can assure you that we won't stop the investigation. I'm sure we'll be able to find enough and then you'll be behind bars for twenty years at least.' said Peter quietly, in Keller's manner. He made a pause, letting the information to sink in and giving Keller a chance to say something. When he didn't get any respond, the agent continued.

'I can shorten your sentence, if you tell me the truth about the painting. Let's start with an easy question. What do you know about the painting?' asked Peter.

'How do I know you are not lying?' retorted Matthew.

'I am a man of my word.' stated Peter calmly, getting a fit of laughter in reply.

Peter waited for some time and stood up from the table and made a move a to walk out of the room, but was stopped by Keller's voice.

'Burke!'

Peter turned to face Keller again.

'I don't know anything about the painting. But I know the man, who wants to get it. Vincent Adler.' said Keller.

Peter nodded and once again turned to the door.

'Now it's your turn, Burke.' said Matthew, raising his voice, as Peter was leaving the room.

'Boss, there is a man waiting for you in the conference room. He brought the lab results on the painting.' said Diana, who was waiting outside the interrogation room.

'Lab results? So quickly? I'll be there in a minute. Thank you, Diana.' replied Peter.

On his way to the conference room, Peter went past Neal, who at that time wasn't doing any work the agent left for him, but was sticking his nose into the case files, he wasn't even supposed to see. Peter made a mental note to tell off the agent, who was supposed to look after Neal and to have a conversation with the teenager about his curiosity, but didn't say anything and headed upstairs.

A tall man, about fifty years of age was already waiting at the table. He stood up, when Peter entered.

'Special agent Peter Burke.' said Peter, greeting the man.

'Anthony Parks.' replied the laboratory consultant, adjusting the oversized glasses on his nose. 'The artist of the painting is unknown, but we know that it was painted somewhere in the middle of the 16th century.' he said, not waiting for any questions.

'The original of the painting is worth a few thousand dollars, and only because of its age. It doesn't have any artistic value.' continued Anthony and when Peter opened his mouth to ask something, he didn't give the agent a chance by going on.

'However, for the painting you brought today, I wouldn't give even a few hundred. The analysis confirmed that it was painted at the end of the 19th century, maybe even the beginning of the 20th century. Therefore, it's a …'

'A forgery?' asked Peter, finally getting a chance to say a word. After straining his ears at the interrogation with Keller it was hard to listen to the annoyingly slow speech of the consultant.

'No, no. I wouldn't say that it's a forgery. It's a copy. A good one, but a copy.'

'What about the original?' asked Peter.

'As far as I'm aware, it hasn't appeared in any museums. The rest isn't my job to know.' replied Anthony. 'The details are in the report.'

The rest of the day wasn't as eventful and soon Peter and Neal were on their way home, much to the teenager's delight.

'Don't worry, Peter. You'll get him next time.' said Neal.

'What do you mean?'

'You've got the "why there are so many problems in the world?" face. So, I figured you didn't catch Keller.'

'No... no, we got him. It's not what bothers me.' replied Peter. 'Before I forgot, Neal, have you done anything I've asked you?'

'Um, yeah... I started sorting the files.'

'And let me guess, then you found something more interesting to do?' asked Peter, glancing at Neal.

'How did you know?' asked Neal, blushing.

'It's my job to know. Next time ask before sticking your curious nose into my case files. Curiosity killed the cat.'

'I'm not a cat, Peter.'

'Oh, I know.' answered the agent.

For a few minutes they were driving in silence, until Peter broke it.

'Guess what?'

'I'm not taking any chances. It's still fresh in my memory that curiosity...' started Neal, but Peter didn't let him finish.

'Jones found his wallet. Turns out he forgot it at the café. And I, God forgive me, thought you took it.'

'Peter! I'm shocked! How could you even think such things and still sleep peacefully at night?!' exclaimed Neal, pretending to be offended. He pretended so well, that soon he really felt offended by the fact that Peter didn't trust him.

'If you continue pouting, your face will explode.' commented Peter, shaking his head. Seeing Neal's reaction, Peter was more than sure that it was Neal who took the wallet... Well, he DID return it. So it was a progress... Kind of.

Some time later, Peter stopped the car. Home, sweet home. He was always looking forward to spend some time with his family. Even since El and Peter got married, it had become the best part of the day, and at first Peter was worried that having Neal living with them would change that. But nothing of that sort happened. Neal definitely brought something new to their small family, but he didn't take away anything that Peter and El were building so carefully during all those years. Peter got used to having dinner with his newly extended family in no time and now had no idea how they had managed to do that without Neal. For Peter those dinners were something sacred. Everything that had happened was forgotten and anything that was going to happen didn't bother the agent. After that, all the problems of the world were back, but not until the last piece on the plate was eaten...

By the time Peter and Neal got to the house, the teenager stopped pouting. So both of them went into the house in good spirits. As soon as they entered, they heard laughter coming from the kitchen and a few moments later El appeared.

'Hey, hon.' she said, kissing her husband. 'Hi, sweetie.' hugging Neal.

Peter was about to ask if they had guests, when Mozzie came out of the kitchen with a glass of wine.

'Good evening, Suit. Neal.' he said, taking a sip from his glass and looking as if everything was the way it should be.

Peter felt that dinner wouldn't be as peaceful as he hoped. Why was the world so cruel?! And then Peter saw how happy El was and Neal's smile, and the ice melted. He would be able to put up with Mozzie for one evening.

As expected, dinner went not as usual, but not unpleasantly. Mozzie even made an exception and told Peter about some of his conspiracy theories.

'Well, I'd better get going.' said Mozzie, after the dinner was over. 'Actually, I came to talk with Neal but your pie, Mrs Suit, made me forget myself.'

'I'm glad you liked it, Mozzie.' smiled Elizabeth.

Peter, who was in a good mood after El's cooking, decided to let Neal and Mozzie talk.

'You can stay for a little while, Mozzie. But nothing illegal! And the mountain had better be in his room after you leave, Mahomet.' said Peter.

'I'll personally see to it, Suit.' answered Mozzie, following Neal upstairs.

'Thanks, Peter.' said Neal and went into his room.

Peter sat down on the couch and hugged Elizabeth.

'Now that I don't see them, I don't trust them.' he said, sighing. 'I can't even decide if I'm against their friendship or not, El. Mozzie seems to be a good friend and he supports Neal. But he is also involved in criminal activity... And their age difference... Mozzie is twenty years older than Neal!'

'Don't be silly, Peter. Moz is only twelve years older than our boy.' said El.

'He told you his age?!' asked Peter, totally surprised. At the moments like that, he was admiring El more than ever.

'Stop worrying, hon. If they are up to something, I'm sure you'll be there to stop them. Let's just enjoy our evening.' said El, running her hand through Peter's hair.

* * *

At the same time Neal and Mozzie were having their own conversation, not by any means less interesting.

'What's up with the mountain?' asked the teenager, as soon as the door was shut. 'Since when do you and Peter share jokes I'm not aware of?'

'Since I began earning his trust.' answered Mozzie, making himself at home and sitting down at the table.

There was a painting on the table, at which Neal was working in the garden.

Mozzie looked at it thoughtfully for a few minutes.

'I always told you to do your own work, but you never listened... I see that Suit does a better job at encouraging you.'

'Neal shrugged his shoulders in reply and sat down near his friend, waiting for Mozzie to continue, which didn't take long.

'The word on the street is that Keller got into the feds' paws.'

'Yeah... Peter's team got him today.' answered Neal.

'I never liked him.' stated Mozzie.

'You never like anyone.' retorted Neal.

'But I wouldn't be glad to know if someone I knew got caught. Still, I'm delighted to hear about Keller. And it proves once more that the enemies of your enemies are not always your friends, but they can still be useful. FBI made the world a bit cleaner today.' said Mozzie.

'Is that what I think I hear? You approve of FBI's actions. That's something new.' said Neal, laughing.

'Intelligent people are always open to new ideas, mon frère.' said Mozzie, glancing at his watch. 'Now it's time to talk business.'

'Which painting is under the forgery, Moz?' asked Neal, excited.

'I wouldn't call it a masterpiece, that's for sure.' replied Mozzie.

'What do you mean?'

'The painting was done by an unknown artist. My guess is it was painted to capture the single item. You see, there is an old massive wooden table on the painting. At the table there is a scarlet-red fan.'

'Is there anything peculiar about the painting? Unique technique, maybe?' asked Neal.

'Absolutely nothing. When I was taking off the layers, I took some paints for analysis. It was painted in the middle of the 16th century.' continued Mozzie.

'Tell me that's not everything you found out.' said Neal, standing up and starting pacing across the room.

'You insult my abilities, Neal. Of course that's not all. When I was finishing the job, I took a closer look. At the fabric of the fan was an emblem. I noticed it the first time I saw the painting. I did some research and found out that it belonged to King Henry II of France...'

'Who ruled as King of France from 1547 until death in 1559.' finished Neal.

'Exactly. What I haven't noticed until the last time I saw the painting, was another emblem, on the trinket. I got access to the archives that mortal people won't ever see. What I found is really astonishing. The second emblem belonged to Baron Beauchamp. The fan on the painting was the King's present to the wife of the Baron.' said Mozzie. 'This painting, as well as the fan, was always in possession of this family, who, as you can tell, lived in France.'

'Then how did the painting get to America?' asked Neal.

'That is the question I'm trying to find an answer to.' replied Mozzie, standing up.

'Moz, I need to see the painting. Is there any chance?'

'Adler got the Bahnhof's safe.' shortly answered Mozzie.

'I can open it.' said Neal.

'Neal. First of all, this safe is almost impossible to open. And even if you somehow manage to do it, it's too dangerous. Promise me that you won't go there alone. I may get a chance to take a photo of the painting for you later. But we need to wait. Promise me, Neal.'

'Fine. I promise' replied the teenager.

'And I'll pretend that I believed you.' said Mozzie, leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two paintings! Peter has the copy and Adler has the original... What do you think it's all about?


	11. Who knows where the road will take you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the amazing feedback! I LOVE your reviews! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! :D

The next morning, the first thing Neal saw was a new message on his phone.

'Need to talk. Our place. 8 pm.'

Great! Now he had to convince Peter to let him go out in the evening... Well, maybe that won't be such a problem after all...

Neal was on his best behaviour all day, doing everything he was told, including sorting files and bringing coffee. But at one point he almost lost his act.

'But, Peter!' whined Neal.

'No.' said Peter, putting on his jacket and getting ready to leave.

'But this is Charles Le Brun we're talking about! MET finally got the "Everhard Jabach and his family". It's not like I'm asking for a new laptop or something...' continued Neal, following Peter.

'Would have been so much easier then...' muttered the agent under his breath.

'OK. Can I have a laptop then?' asked Neal, getting in front of Peter and blocking the agent's way.

'Neal, we'll be at the other part of the museum. You won't be able to see that painting anyway.' answered Peter, trying to sound gentle and not frustrated.

'I can go there myself, while you will be investigating... whatever you are going to be investigating.' replied Neal flashing his smile. 'Just take me with you. Please?'

Peter almost gave in to those pleadings and the sad puppy dog eyes. One more second and he would have allowed Neal to come, two more – and he would have taken the teenager to the exhibit himself, but...

'No, Neal. Listen, I'll take you to the museum next time, OK? But right now I have a job to do.'

Neal was about to argue, but then remembered that he needed Peter on his side, so he wisely closed his mouth.

When Peter left, Neal sat down at the table. What if it was the time to put an end to all of this? Yes, it was definitely the right time. He shouldn't even go to that meeting! He knew it needed to stop and that it needed to stop now...

No. He should go to that meeting and get the answers. And after that he would stop all of that nonsense. Yes. That's what he really should do.

Making up his mind, Neal got up and continued doing the work. By the time he had finished, it was getting late, but Peter still hadn't returned.

Neal felt someone's hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Jones standing right behind him.

'Peter called.' said Jones. 'He asked me to take you home.'

'Why? Did something happen?' asked Neal in alarm.

'No, he's just following a new lead and doesn't want you to stay at the office for so long. Come on.' replied Jones.

When they arrived Elizabeth was already at home. She asked if Jones would like to stay for dinner, but he politely declined, saying that he still had some work unfinished at the bureau.

Neal helped Elizabeth to cook dinner and then they decided to wait for Peter.

'Alright, spit it out.' said El, sitting next to Neal on the couch.

Neal looked questioningly at her but didn't reply. El glanced at Neal, raising her eyebrows.

'Peter is investigating something at the Metropolitan Museum and I asked him to take me with him.' said Neal after a few minutes of silence.

'And he didn't take you?' asked El.

'No...' mumbled Neal. 'I just wanted to see Charles Le Brun's painting, El. I'm not asking to go to the Palace of Versailles! And Peter was going to the museum anyway, he could have taken me... I wouldn't have been a distraction.' finished Neal.

Elizabeth was about to say something, but Neal continued talking.

'And it's not only about the museum, Elizabeth. Peter always treats me like a five year old kid and doesn't let me do anything! I am not a kid!'

'Of course you're not. Peter just wants to take a good care of you. And he is not very good with teenagers.' answered El.

'I can take care of myself. I lived on my own for three years!' replied Neal.

'I know, sweetie. It shouldn't have been like that... But, unfortunately, we can't change the past.'

'Exactly! But Peter refuses to acknowledge that.' said Neal and made a short pause, before continuing. 'And I don't want to change anything, El. It is what it is. I accepted that a long time ago... When I came to live with you guys, my life changed completely. And now I'm trying to get used to that...' said Neal quietly, but Elizabeth heard him.

'And how Peter treats me doesn't help at all!' said the teenager more loudly, standing up. At that moment, the door bell rang and Neal went to open the door.

'And we're just trying to be good parents...' whispered El and went to see who came.

'Hi, hon!' she said, surprised, as Peter always had the keys and didn't have to knock.

'Hi, hon!' replied the agent, kissing his wife. 'I forgot the keys.' he explained.

After dinner Neal looked at the time. He still had enough time to get to the meeting, but needed to hurry. Then he thought about all the things he said to Elizabeth. Somewhere deep down he really felt that way, but at that moment Neal had the conversation with El for another purposes. And Peter found the perfect minute to start the conversation, as Neal was in his thoughts and didn't hear the agent asking him something.

'Still pouting?' asked Peter, when he didn't get an answer to his first question. 'Listen, buddy. We'll go to that museum next time. With El and maybe even Mozzie... We'll see about Mozzie, but we'll definitely go.' continued Peter.

'Peter?' asked Neal, looking up at the agent.

'What is it,buddy?'

Neal studied Peter's features for a few seconds. He saw that the agent was feeling a bit guilty. Perfect. It was just what Neal needed.

'Can I go out tonight?' asked Neal.

'Need I remind you what happened the last time you went out, Neal?! It was two days ago!' answered Peter.

Elizabeth, who was watching quietly, decided to step in.

'Peter! Don't traumatize him further! We've already talked about it and agreed not to bring it up again.' said El.

'I think we should talk about it.' answered the agent, slightly raising his voice.

'Peter.'

El's voice was quiet but with a hint of warning.

Peter shook his head and took a deep breath to calm himself down.

'Sorry, El.' he said and then turned to face Neal. 'Fine. You can go.'

Neal was about to run upstairs to change but didn't have a chance to move, as Peter went on.

'BUT. If you're not home by ten, you and I are going to have a very serious conversation, Neal. Got it?'

'Yes, sir!' saluted the teenager and quickly left the room.

Peter sat down, still shaking his head.

'Oh, he's smart. He used that situation so I would let him go out.'

'You like smart.' commented El.

'Yeah... But I have no idea what to do with one particular smart teenager. Honestly, El... When I'm treating him like a kid, he immediately gets offended. But when I'm treating him like an adult, he doesn't understand me. He doesn't even listen then!' exclaimed Peter.

'You need to trust him.' replied El. 'And you should SHOW him that you trust him.'

'I still think it's better to trust but verify.' answered Peter.

'As far as I know, you've been only verifying lately.' retorted Elizabeth.

'And where is that coming from?' asked the agent.

'Neal and I had a little chat tonight...'

'Ah... That's how he got you to his side...'

'It doesn't matter, hon. What matters is that Neal needs to see that you trust him like an adult. He needs to feel that you treat him like an adult. Meanwhile, you need to remember that he is still a teenager. And what do they need most?'

'Food and fun.'

'Attention. They need attention, hon.' replied Elizabeth smiling.

* * *

At the same time Neal had finally decided which shirt to wear. It wasn't like he was dressing up for a special occasion or anything of that sort. No, he was just following El's advice and was trying to look good no matter where he was going... At least that is what Neal was telling himself.

While the teenager was on his way, he looked around. The woman, who was selling flowers at the corner, wasn't there that evening. At first, Neal's spirits fell, but then he reminded himself that it was just a meeting. A meeting, not a date.

Neal got to the Brooklyn Bridge just in time, but the person he was supposed to meet wasn't there. Neal stood at the bridge for a few minutes, looking down at the water. He always liked this place, it had a calming effect on him. This was the place where there were many people, yet you could feel lonely. At the same time, it was a place, where those people didn't matter, when you were with your "special someone"...

'Neal!'

The teenager turned around and stared at the person, who called him for a few seconds.

'Kate. You look fantastic as usual. Have you done something with your hair?' said Neal.

Kate smiled and went closer to Neal.

'That's what I always liked about you most. Your eye for the details.' said Kate, looking Neal in the eyes. 'Although THAT,' she glanced at Neal's black eye, which was slow;y fading, 'is not something to admire.'

'Well, THAT,' Neal pointed to his eye, 'Wouldn't be there, if it wasn't for your _boyfriend._ ' Neal spat the last word, like it was an insult.

'Oh, come on, Neal! Sammy is not my boyfriend.' answered Kate and looked closely at Neal. 'You don't believe me!'

'It's a hard thing to do, especially after what happened!' exclaimed Neal. 'I tried convincing myself that there was nothing you could do...'

'There WAS nothing I could do! If I tried to stop the fight, I doubt I would be standing here right now! I knew you could handle it...' began Kate.

'I am not talking about the fight!' Neal shouted so loudly, that a few people turned to look at them.

'I saw how you ran into his arms and kissed him.' said Neal, lowering his voice.

'I did it to protect both you and me.' whispered Kate and a single tear rolled down her cheek. 'If I didn't love you, I wouldn't keep this.'

With those words Kate raised her left hand. Neal saw the familiar bracelet, the one he gave her. There was hanging a small silver key.

'It was raining that day.' began Kate, coming closer and closer to Neal. 'And we went into a small shop. There were so many different things, but your eyes fell on a heart-shaped padlock. We didn't have enough money... You could have easily stolen that padlock, but you didn't. The shop didn't have many customers and the owner was poor. I remember what you said.'

'You can't be truly happy if you steal a piece of happiness from someone else.' said Neal and Kate at the same time.

Their eyes met and they stood for a few seconds just looking at each other. But then Neal continued the story.

'The owner saw us and gave us that padlock... Then we came here and hanged it here. We wanted to throw away the keys, but you said that it would be better to create our own tradition, other than copying others. And we kept them.' said Neal, showing the similar key, which was hanging on the chain on his neck. 'We were both wet and the bridge was so slippery... you almost fell down...'

'But you caught me and...' continued Kate, but Neal didn't let her finish as his lips touched hers.

'Our first kiss was here...' she whispered when their lips parted.

Neal wrapped his arm across Kate's shoulders and held her close. They stood for a couple of minutes, looking at the river.

'I know a small café.' said Neal quietly, not letting Kate go. 'They serve the best pastries.'

They slowly went to that café. There was only on other couple, sitting by the window.

Neal and Kate bought one piece of cake for both of them but not because there wasn't enough money, but because it was what they always did. They always sat beside each other and not across.

'To see, what the other one sees.' they said at the same time.

'To feel, what she feels.' continued Neal.

'To taste, what he tastes.' finished Kate.

They sat in the café, eating the cake and chatting about everything and nothing. Neal felt Kate's hand in his, he heard her laugh and saw her smile... He was truly happy. And no one could take that moment away, because it was their moment. Time passed by very quickly and soon it was time to part.

'I have to go, Neal.' said Kate, kissing him on the cheek. 'I had a great time.'

'Me too.' answered the young con.

They went out of the café and Neal watched as Kate slowly walked away. He turned to go home, but heard her voice once again.

'Neal!'

A few seconds later Kate was beside Neal one more time. She wrapped her hands around his neck and whispered something in his ear, which made Neal smile.

'Just wanted to let you know that.' said the girl and made a step to leave, but Neal took her hand and their lips once again merged in a kiss.

When Kate finally left and there was no point in starring in the direction she went, Neal looked at his watch. He realised that if he wanted to get home on time, and after a great evening he definitely wanted that, he needed to hurry.

Neal opened the front door and saw that Peter was waiting for him.

'It's ten sharp on my watch, Peter.' said the teenager smiling.

'Lucky for you.' replied the agent and also smiled. 'So, I take it the date went well?'

'Um, well...' Neal didn't know what to say as he sat down near Peter. 'Maybe it wasn't a date?'

'Yeah, right. It was just two friends kissing. You have lipstick on your cheek.' replied Peter.

Neal blushed and quickly rubbed his face to get rid of the lipstick.

'Sorry.' he mumbled, looking at the floor.

'What are you apologizing for?' asked Peter, chuckling. 'It's natural for people to show their emotions, Neal. It's not a sign of weakness.'

When Neal's eyes met with Peter's, the agent smiled again. Maybe it was hard to keep up with Neal and his constant shenanigans, but at the moments like that Peter knew it was all worth the result.

'Whatever you do, don't lose your head.' said Peter ruffling Neal's hair.

Neal closed his eyes. Peter's hand wasn't as gentle and soft as Kate's and his touch was very different from hers... But it wasn't by any means less loving.

Peter kissed Neal on the top of his head, before standing up.

'Good night, kiddo.'

'Good night, Peter.' replied the teenager looking up at the agent.

* * *

The next morning Neal woke up late. He rushed downstairs to see Elizabeth typing on her computer.

'Morning, El.'

'Morning, Neal. I'll give you some breakfast, just wait a moment.' replied Elizabeth.

'Don't worry, El.' I can do it myself.' said Neal walking into the kitchen and taking some cereal.

When he returned Elizabeth was getting ready to leave.

'Where's Peter?' asked the teenager, chewing, which caused his phrase sound more like "waras Pet'r?"

'He left for work early.' answered El. 'Said there was nothing for you to do in the office, since he won't be around. Enjoy your day off, sweetie.'

Neal didn't have to think about what to do, because he knew exactly where he wanted to go. So, not long after Elizabeth left, Neal made his way to Adler's house. Neal knew everything he needed about the security and the cameras, he was also aware of Adler's whereabouts. He was never at home at this time of the day, which made it if not easy, then at least possible to get into the house.

The teenager got into Adler's office without much trouble and now he was looking at the safe. Neal never saw anything even remotely close to that safe. Mozzie was right, this wasn't an ordinary safe. But for Neal it was just another challenge, a test of skills.

Neal went closer to the safe and looked attentively at it. To build plans on how to crack the safe while sitting in your bedroom was the one thing, but to see the hard, cold steel with your own eyes was the complete other. Neal raised his hand and...

'I doubted if you had enough guts to touch it.'

Neal turned around and saw Adler, who walked into the room so quietly that the teenager didn't notice. Whether Adler had the cat-like movements, or Neal was simply too distracted to hear him enter, the young con couldn't tell. And it didn't matter as the result was not the one Neal was hoping for.

'I was just admiring its perfect shape.' replied Neal, trying to hide the fact that he was a bit scared. Adler wasn't the right man to mess around with. Besides, Neal admired and respected Vincent.

He was the man behind the curtains, who didn't get his hands dirty but without whom a huge amount of operations and heists wouldn't even exist. Adler was a puppeteer and his puppets were real people. But Adler was too smart to let his puppets know that, he gave them everything, including the delusive sense of freedom. But that wasn't why Neal admired Adler so much. Adler held an unshakable authority over each and everyone he met, no matter which position he was in.

Vincent went to the table and poured some whiskey into a glass. He sat down at the sofa imposingly and took a sip, looking directly at Neal, who was still standing near the safe. Neal hoped he looked calm and confident, but he felt that his legs started shaking traitorously.

'They say, Japanese whiskey is the best.' said Adler raising his glass and looking at the liquor inside it. 'But to my mind the best whiskey can be produced only in its Motherland. It's not my business to decide whether it's Ireland or Scotland, but I can tell you for sure, that only these two countries have good whiskey... But you are too young to drink or even talk about it. As well as too young to crack that safe.'

Adler emptied his glass and at the same time his eyes travelled to the window. He kept his gaze there for a few minutes, looking as if he was making an important decision.

'Perfect shape, huh?' asked Adler, still looking at the window. 'It's shape is as perfect as its security. This safe is almost impossible to open.'

At these words Vincent stood up and went to stand near Neal, who kept silent.

'I'll teach you how to open high-secure safes, if you promise to be a good boy. And lesson number one is to never say never. Even this baby can be cracked.' said Adler, knocking on the door of the safe.

'But everything has its price and time. Sometimes time is the price. You see, Neal, in our business patience is the key to success.' continued Adler and put his hand on Neal's shoulder. 'You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. I didn't think that to touch the sky, you need to climb a ladder first. Not to mention, before that you need to find that ladder. Passion is a good thing, but focus and concentration are better.'

Adler sat down at his table and motioned for Neal to sit opposite him.

'Now let's talk about your little stunt. I can't just let it slide, especially after saying that everything has its price. Since you managed to get into my office undetected, and that is not an easy thing to do, I think you can get me something from the FBI.' said Adler.

'FBI?! It's suicide! I...' started Neal.

'I know that you work with feds. That means you have access.' interrupted Adler.

'I only have access to dirty mugs and horrible coffee!' replied the teenager.

'Stop whining like a puppy! It ruins my impression about you!' barked Vincent.

'What is it that you need?' asked Neal, swallowing hard.

'Something that was supposed to be mine, but the man whom I trusted the job couldn't run fast.' replied Adler, standing up and opening the safe with a few clicks. Vincent put something in front of Neal and the teenager was surprised to see that it was the painting about which Mozzie told him. The same painting he came to see in the first place...

'FBI has the copy of this painting. Get it and I will consider forgiving you for breaking into my office.'

'I can't just walk in there and take it!' exclaimed Neal, forgetting with whom he was speaking.

'I give you carte blanche. Use your imagination.' answered Adler coldly. This moment Neal had an idea and was praying that Adler would take the bait.

'Fine. But I need to take a sketch of this painting.' said Neal, looking at Vincent. 'If I steal the painting, they will notice. Feds are not stupid, they know what they have. But if I replace the painting with the forgery...'

'You can make only a sketch here.' interrupted Adler. 'You'll finish the rest of the work at home. I. Don't. Trust. You.'

Neal completed the sketch very quickly and even managed to take a photo of the painting when Adler wasn't looking. Neal got up to leave and was already at the door, when he heard Adler's stern voice.

'I will be watching closely, Neal. One wrong step can cost you dearly.'

Not turning around Neal nodded and left the building. When the door closed, Adler went to the window and watched Neal walking down the street.

'He's quite a talented fellow.' thought Adler. 'All he needs is to fall into the right hands.'

* * *

In the evening Neal tried to act as usual. He chatted with El, annoyed Peter with stupid questions and chased Satchmo around the house, declaring that the dog needed more exercise if he didn't want to be like Peter. Neal ended up walking Satchmo, grumbling that it was Peter's turn.

As soon as the teenager left, Peter decided to talk with his wife.

'Neal and Mozzie got themselves into a huge mess, El.' said Peter and when Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, he took it as a sign to continue. Remember when I caught them, while we were taking down Hound?'

'Your disciplinary actions are hard to forget, hon!' replied El laughing.

'It was an accident! That stupid ball was... It doesn't matter now. When I was questioning Hound, one of his men said that one painting went missing that night. It was just some forgery... and then Keller told that he was working for Adler. I'm sure Neal and Mozzie took that forgery. And I'm also convinced that they were working for Adler. You have no idea how much I want to be wrong about this, hon.' said Peter.

'Even if they were working for Adler, isn't it over now?' asked Elizabeth.

'No. It's like becoming a member of the crew of the "Flying Dutchman", Davy Jones won't let you go, until you served abroad for one hundred years.' replied the agent and sighed.

'I think you need to talk with Neal about it.' answered El.

'He will just deny everything. I tried every method, hon. Talking, lecturing, punishing... I even tried threatening him! And nothing works!' exclaimed Peter.

'You will figure out what to do with him eventually. But for now, why won't you try to talk with Mozzie?' was El's reply.

'The master of conspiracy theories? Yeah, because that is going to be so much easier! I don't even know where to find him.'

'Well, I can give him a call.' suggested El, smiling.

* * *

The next day Peter left Neal at home again. And Neal completed the forgery of the painting that Adler showed him. He was thinking whether he should tell Mozzie about Adler or not, and finally decided that it could wait. He had enough time to think everything through.

Meanwhile, Mozzie was at the park, waiting for Elizabeth. They both loved reading and sometimes met to discuss books. Mozzie wasn't the person, who let people easily into his life, but he did exceptions from time to time. And Mrs Suit was one of those exceptions. She didn't ask any questions but was always ready to listen and unlike many people, she actually understood what was Mozzie trying to say.

'Mr Dante Haversham.' said a man, who appeared as it seemed from nowhere and sat down beside Mozzie.

'Hello, Suit.' greeted Mozzie and made a move to stand up.

'Not so fast. We need to talk.' replied Peter.

'I prefer not to talk, when I don't have anything to say.' answered Mozzie, reluctantly taking his seat.

'Don't bother. I have plenty to say.' said the agent and before Mozzie had a chance to reply, continued. 'I am not you and I have to return to work soon, so I'll be quick.'

'That is a wise thing to do, Suit.' said Mozzie. 'Be quick, but don't hurry.'

'You couldn't help it, could you? You always have to answer.' said Peter, rolling his eyes.

'Wise men speak because they have something to say, fools because they have to say something.' quoted Mozzie.

'I'm glad to hear it, Plato.' replied Peter, getting a barely visible smile of approval from Mozzie. 'Listen, Mozzie, I'm aware that you and Neal were working Adler...'

At this point Mozzie hopped up and was ready to run, but Peter stopped him once again.

'Just hear me out. Adler is planning something big. If, and when he uses you two, and believe me he will because he needs people about whose fate he doesn't care, you will get into serious trouble. And it's going to be whether Adler, who will shoot you, because you know too much, or FBI will get you. Mozzie, I have been doing everything to keep Neal out of juvie, but I won't be able to do anything if you don't start cooperating now. Both of you will end up behind bars or dead.' concluded Peter.

Mozzie looked up at him, but didn't say anything so Peter went on.

'Neal doesn't want to listen to me. He will, eventually, I know that... but by that time it might be too late.' said Peter quietly. 'Working at the other side of the law isn't that bad. We have some privileges and access to stuff I'm sure you'll be interested in. And it's not only about it, Mozzie. You can use your knowledge where it will be valued and your achievements acknowledged.' finished the agent.

Both of them sat in silence for a few minutes. After that Mozzie shook Peter's hand and left still not saying a word. Peter watched him.

'He's such an intelligent guy.' the agent thought to himself. 'All he needs is to fall into the right hands.'


	12. There are no secrets that time does not reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the constant support and attention! My dear readers, you are totally amazing! Thank you so much! Happy International Fanworks day! Let the power of imagination be with you along the way!

After an exhausting day at work, Peter finally returned home. It was late and when the agent was opening the door, darkness surrounded him, as the street lamps weren't working. The second he turned the key, a strong penetrating wind started blowing, which was unusual for the early August's night. Peter wasn't a man who got scared easily and he wasn't superstitious, but an uncomfortable feeling crawled into his chest. The sounds of the soft footsteps and the rustling of the leaves were making the situation only worse. Somewhere in the distance an alarm on a car went off, but Peter didn't hear it because he had already stepped into the house and quickly shut the door behind him, as he had no desire to let that gloomy atmosphere of an unpleasant night into his house.

The lights in the living room were off, but Peter heard voices coming from the kitchen. The door was opened and the agent leaned on it and looked fondly at his family. Elizabeth and Neal were so engrossed in their conversation that none of them noticed Peter. No one knows for how long Peter would be standing there if Satchmo hadn't run to greet his master, making Neal turn around. The teenager hopped up from his seat and in a matter of seconds he was beside the agent.

'Hey, dad! Did you bring me anything?' asked Neal grinning.

At first Peter didn't understand what was happening, but looking at Neal he figured out that the teenager was just messing around.

'Sure I did, son.' Replied the agent seriously and looked inside his briefcase. 'I brought this especially for you. Enjoy.'

Now it was Peter's turn to grin and watch as the teenager's smile dropped.

'A pen? That's a very generous gift, Peter.'

'Considering the fact that it still has some ink, it is a very generous gift indeed.' answered the agent. 'Aren't you supposed to be in bed?'

'It's half past nine, which means that I have enough time to enjoy my new pen.' replied Neal with sarcasm evident in his voice.

He sat down at the table and started clicking the pen, while Peter and El talked. A few minutes later, the agent sat beside Neal and Elizabeth went to warm up some food.

'I brought you something else, buddy.' said Peter, as Neal stopped clicking the pen and looked up with excitement.

'I haven't finished some reports and I think you and your pen can help me.'

'I can always give you the pen, even though we have already become attached to each other.' replied Neal, not liking where all of this was going. 'Besides, I don't know anything about paperwork. I'll make thousands of mistakes and your boss…'

'Don't worry about that. I will teach you.' Peter answered calmly.

'But this is child labour!' retorted Neal, knowing well that it wasn't a good excuse.'

'I'm not asking you to dig a trench and I thought it would be useful for you to learn something new.'

'This is cruel and unusual!'

'No, it isn't. Cruel would be sending you to bed early, not giving you a chance to enjoy your new pen. By the way, it can still happen.' answered Peter. 'Go to the living room. I'll be there shortly to show you everything.'

'Can I at least forge your signature?' asked Neal and didn't even bother waiting for the verbal answer after Peter glared at him, and hurried into the living room.

Peter was lost in his thoughts and didn't even hear when Elizabeth asked him something.

'Sorry, hon. I wasn't listening.' he admitted.

'It's fine. I was just asking if you really had to make Neal do all of those reports.' answered El.

'He can't sort files forever, El. People go to Quantico to learn all of this, and I can show him everything now. Besides, when Neal doesn't do anything, he gets bored and Neal plus boredom is a recipe for disaster. And I also want him to feel that he's a part of our team. Maybe that will stop his shenanigans… A man can dream, right?'

'Of course, but you'd better come back to the reality soon. Because in the reality Neal is not too happy about the extra work, Satchmo is trying to get your attention for the last ten minutes, your dinner is getting cold and your parents called.'

'What? When?' asked Peter, petting Satchmo with one hand and holding his spoon in another.

'A few hours ago, while you were still at work. By the way, did you talk with Mozzie?'

'Yeah, but I don't know if I managed to convince him… Anyway, did anything happen?'

'Why do you think something needs to happen for people to call, Peter? They just wanted to know if we were coming to their wedding anniversary. And your mother mentioned along the lines that we are hiding their grandson.'

'That's not true. They met Satchmo.' replied Peter, finishing his dinner.

'Anyway, I think we should go. We haven't visited for such a long time. And it will be nice for all of us to change the surroundings for a couple of days.' answered Elizabeth, rolling her eyes at Peter's comment about Satchmo.

'I have to work…' started the agent.

'You always have to work, honey. Tomorrow is Friday, so if you finish everything early…' El deliberately didn't finish.

'Yeah… I guess you're right.' replied Peter, rubbing his forehead. 'I'll go to the bureau in the morning to sort some things out. We need to set out after lunch, if we want to get to Cooperstown by night.'

'It's settled then.' said El and kissed her husband.

'But one thing is still bothering me, hon. You know my dad… and Neal…'

'Oh, I'm sure they'll find each other's company very interesting.'

'That's what I'm afraid of.' replied Peter, standing up. He headed up to the living room, where Neal was pretending to be asleep. There was no such thing he wouldn't do to avoid writing the reports! But, apparently, luck wasn't on his side that day. Well, at least he tried.

The next day, everything went as planned and immediately after lunch the family was getting ready to leave. Neal was helping Peter to get the bags into the car, when he heard a soft voice.

'Thought I'd let you go without saying goodbye?'

Neal turned around and smiled, when he saw Kate. He gathered the girl in his arms and lifted her from the ground. Kate started laughing and soon Neal joined her.

Peter and El watched them, standing a few steps away. A couple of minutes later Peter's smile slowly started to fade away and he glanced at his watch. After that he made an attempt to call Neal, but Elizabeth stopped him. But some time later Peter couldn't wait any longer and loudly cleared his throat.

'We will see each other again, right?' asked Kate, quietly.

'Of course.' replied Neal, kissing the girl on the cheek. 'I'll be back on Monday.'

She smiled in reply and watched as Neal got into the car and left waving to her.

The ride to Cooperstown was quite uneventful. Neal was looking out of the window and watched as New York's skyscrapers were slowly disappearing in the distance. Soon the scenery changed completely and instead of the stone jungle, fields appeared. The dark heavy clouds, which were covering the sky, in contrast with the emerald green grass, were making a truly magnificent picture. Horizon is an optical illusion and our planet is round, but it seemed that if you walked long enough, the miracle would happen and you'd see the place, where earth meets the sky…

The day was warm and it was rather stuffy. The air was dry. But after some time it started to rain. The droplets of water fell on earth, clearing the air on their way. At first it became almost impossible to breathe, because when the water hit the burning hot pavement, you felt like you were locked up in the steam room. Fortunately, a couple of minutes later, temperature fell and cool wind started blowing, bringing the fresh air.

The car was driving across a narrow road, situated between the fields, so when Neal opened the window he felt the smell of the wet ground. The teenager closed his eyes and let that smell take over his body, helping every muscle to relax. It began raining more heavily and sometimes the drops of water got into the car through the opened window. Soon enough, Neal's hair got a bit wet but he didn't close the window and continued sitting in the same position for some time. But when a particularly large droplet landed on his nose, the young con opened his eyes and started blinking rapidly, at the same time turning his head in different directions, as if he was looking for something. Suddenly he stopped moving around.

'Peter! Stop the car!' cried Neal.

Peter stopped the car and turned around to ask what was wrong, but by that time Neal was already climbing out of the vehicle. The agent looked at his wife questioningly.

'El, what…' the agent stammered on his own words, when Elizabeth nodded towards the window and went out to stand beside Neal.

Peter shook his head and smiled, watching as his wife and the boy, who Peter, somewhere deep down, considered to be his own son, were standing and looking at the sky. And there was one of the nature's best creations, a bright symbol of hope – a rainbow.

Peter joined his family and looked at the rainbow, ignoring the last drops of water, that were still falling from the sky, which was slowly clearing and the rays of sun were coming through the clouds. This scene definitely fell into the category "you won't feel, until you see". Of course you can see the rainbow in the city, but it's nothing compared to the rainbow in the countryside, where everything and everybody is free… Freedom and creativity, magic and hope for the bright and clear future… And most importantly - happiness. This is what a serious, no-nonsense agent saw in a simple rainbow. Peter glanced at Neal. There was no doubt that the teenager had the same feelings. Maybe Neal tried to appear as an all-grown up and emotionless adult, but in fact he was still a kid, who believed in miracles and saw the beauty of the world in the simplest things.

Elizabeth was simply happy. Nothing complicated was on her mind, just two overgrown five year olds, who finally found something in common…

* * *

When they finally arrived in Cooperstown, it was getting dark. Peter stopped the car near a small tidy house. He went out and knocked at the door, while El and Neal followed. A few moments later a voice was heard from behind the door.

'At this time only cops or criminals come. Which one are you?'

'Both.' replied Peter.

'This should be interesting.' was the reply and a tall man with grey hair opened the door. He looked sceptically at the people, standing in front of him and then turned and shouted into the house.

'Hey, Mandy! I was right about the cause of the rain!'

Then the man turned again and hugged Peter.

'Thought I'd have to fake my death for you to visit.'

'I'm glad to see you too, dad.'

At this second a woman went out of the house and quickly made her way towards a certain FBI agent.

"Peter!' she greeted, while gently hugging her son.

'Hi, mom!'

'And this is one of the few women I admire.' said Peter's father, stepping towards Elizabeth.

'And this is one of the few men who can make wise decisions.' answered El, returning the hug. 'I'm glad to see you, Richard.'

After Elizabeth and Mandy greeted each other, Peter decided to introduce Neal to his parents. Neal could feel knots in his stomach and couldn't decide if he was nervous or just hungry. Of course he wasn't nervous! He was never nervous! Hungry, definitely hungry.

'So, you are the young man who kept Peter fit for a couple of years?' asked Richard, shaking hands with Neal.

'Yes, sir.' replied Neal, feeling that all of his "hunger" suddenly disappeared. 'And I assure you, Peter will stay in good shape as long as I'm around.'

'It's so nice to finally meet you!' said Mandy and hugged Neal, who didn't expect such warm greetings. 'You are so thin!'

'Like a walking dead.' confirmed Richard.

'Peter doesn't allow midnight snacks.' answered Neal, starting to enjoy this conversation.

Who knows where all of this would lead, if Neal hadn't remembered something, or rather someone. He ran to the car and opened the door, letting Satchmo out. Neal could tell by the look on the dog's face, that Satch was offended, but everything was immediately forgotten, as he saw Peter's parents and ran to greet them.

Soon everyone went into the house, leaving old offences and troubles behind the closed door.

* * *

In the morning Neal woke up early, but didn't hurry to go downstairs. Instead, he sat down at the edge of the bed and spent some time in this position, not thinking about anything. But this peaceful state was disturbed by the sounds coming from behind the door. There was no need to strain ears, because two men on the other side of the room were speaking loudly.

'You don't want to listen to me, listen to your mother!'

'Dad...'

'Let the child sleep! It's summer vacation, Pete!'

'You never let me sleep in!' exclaimed Peter, who was clearly running out of arguments, as this conversation wasn't going for the first minute.

Neal decided to stop the little argument and opened the door, which caused both older men to turn in that direction.

'Good morning!' said the teenager, smiling cheerfully: not every day you could see Peter lose such battle.

'Look, you woke him anyway! That loud voice of yours… I have no idea where you got that from! Nobody in our family can shout like this.' said Richard, whose voice was far louder than Peter's. 'Well, let's not waste our time then. I have big plans for today.'

With those words Richard went downstairs, leaving Peter and Neal behind.

'How come your dad is so awesome and you are… well, so… you?!' asked Neal.

'Dad strongly believes that when grandparents enter the door, discipline flies out the window. I would have closed all of the windows but it's their house, therefore their rules.' grumbled the agent, but it was still clear that he was in a good mood and enjoyed everything no less than Neal.

When Neal went downstairs, he was immediately led to the table. The teenager never had so much attention in his life… and so much food!

'Mom! If you continue feeding him like that, there won't be enough room for him in the car!' said Peter, finishing his coffee. 'He won't even need to get into the car, as he will be rolling back home… El!'

Elizabeth sent her husband a meaningful look and put some more salad on Neal's plate.

'Relax, Peter.' replied Richard, raising his dark brown eyes from the newspaper. 'Even if Neal won't be able to get into the car, which will be completely your fault, because when I told you to buy a normal car, like a truck, you didn't listen. Well, if that happens, we'll keep the boy, right, pumpkin?'

'With pleasure.' replied Mandy, whose attention travelled from Neal to Elizabeth. And now Peter's mother was trying to get some food into El, claiming that Elizabeth looked sick.

'Neal can be a big headache.' commented Peter.

'And you weren't?' asked Richard.

'I was an angel compared to him.' answered Peter, laughing.

'Yeah, keep thinking that.' said Richard, standing up and walking to stand behind Neal. 'Don't listen to Peter. When he was your age, he pulled such stunts about which you can only dream. He knows how to have fun and we will remind him how to do it.'

After that everybody started getting ready to leave, but soon Mandy sat down with a dramatic sigh.

'Oh, I think I should stay at home.' she said, rubbing her neck. 'Elizabeth, dear, open the window, please.'

El rushed to the window and Peter with his father sat beside Mandy. Neal went back to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water.

'Don't you worry about me!' exclaimed the woman, when everyone started asking questions about her well-being. 'In fact, what are you all still doing here? Richard, you wanted to show Neal our town, didn't you?'

'Yes. But I can't leave you, Mandy. I'll stay here with you. Peter and El will go out with Neal.' answered Richard.

'No need for that, Richard. I'll stay, while you and the boys can go and have some fun.' said Elizabeth and when she saw that Peter was about to argue, continued. 'Besides, tomorrow is your wedding anniversary and we could really use our "girl time" for the preparations. Right, Mandy?'

'Of course! Now, go!' replied Peter's mom.

With a little bit more persuading from the women's side and soon Peter, Richard and Neal were walking out of the door. A few minutes after that, Mandy stood up from the couch and went to stand near Elizabeth, who was looking out of the window.

'I thought they'd never leave!' said Mandy, stroking El's hair gently. 'Are they gone?'

'Yes. Don't you want to lie down?' asked El.

'No time for that! Come on, we need to hurry, if we don't want to be late.'

'Where are we going?'

'Patience, my dear! Patience!' replied Mandy, taking her bag and walking towards the door, leaving El no choice but to follow.

Not long after that, two women were standing in front of a wooden door, on which there was drawn a symbol of a shining sun. Mandy knocked three times and after a short pause two more times. The door opened and a woman in a long bright red dress appeared. Her hair was hidden under the parti-coloured headscarf and there were tones of make-up on her face, which made Elizabeth wonder how much time that woman spent on that war paint.

'Come! Come! De spirits do not wait!' said the woman with strong accent and stretched her hands as if she wanted to show her fantastic manicure, towards the visitors. She opened the door more widely and went into the house, indicating to follow her example.

'Who is that?' asked Elizabeth, astounded.

'That is Aviana. She claims to be a fortune-teller.' whispered Mandy.

They were coming up the stairs with Aviana walking in the front. She raised her dress a little and that is when Elizabeth saw what every woman dreams to see or even better… wear!

'Are those shoes from Christian Louboutin's collection?' asked El, losing control over her emotions.

'Yes, yes!' answered Aviana, turning around and raising her dress a bit more to show the whole beauty of the shoes. 'De spirits rewarded me for de hard work!'

'The spirits are very generous and with a good taste as well.' replied El.

'Indeed! Indeed! So nice to finally meet a knowledgeable person!' said Aviana, unlocking the door of the room and leading her guests to the couch.

If it wasn't for the light from the candles, the room would have been completely dark.

'If you exguse me, I shall take some zings for de session.'

Aviana returned a few seconds later and sat down on the floor. Elizabeth expected cards and a crystal ball but instead the fortune-teller opened a laptop.

'So, what seems to be de problem?'

'My son, Peter.' replied Mandy.

'Hmm… Facebook page?' asked Aviana, typing on her computer.

'Umm, yes. Peter Burke.' answered El.

'Any ozer accounts? I need every piece of information for de full diagnosis.'

'No. I don't think he has any other accounts.' said El, feeling that her head began spinning from the smell coming from the flowers, which were standing on a small table near the couch.

'Good news.' said Aviana, addressing El, after clicking and typing for a few minutes. 'Your husband does not have any ozer women.'

'That's not what we wanted to hear! Well, I mean, it's good, but we knew that without you telling us!' exclaimed Mandy. 'Look closely, Aviana, my dear. I think that Peter has been cursed! He's angry all the time, grumbling about everything! And the worst thing is that he's always looking for something or someone. Look attentively, Aviana. And have a look at his wife Elizabeth. There's definitely something wrong. Maybe enemies put a hex on their family? Oh, you should have seen their boy! Poor thing!'

'For dat I need de help of my old friends! Fashions change, but some zings don't!' replied Aviana, taking cards, for which El was waiting the entire session, from her pocket. She stood up and turned on the loud music before sitting back on the floor and tossing the cards.

'De spirits need to hear where de help is needed.' explained the woman and started throwing out some of the cards. 'Oh, oh! What a strong spell had been cast! Oh, dear!'

All of the shouting from Aviana was mixing up with the sounds coming from the CD player and reminded whales, singing at the rock concert.

'Can you lift the curse?' asked Mandy standing up.

'Of course!' was the reply. 'But wait! I see more! Your family… you have a new member?'

'Yes! That's right!' said Mandy, taking her seat again. 'You see, Elizabeth. That woman really has a talent!'

'But you told her about our boy just a few minutes ago!' retorted El, trying to speak quietly, which was a hard thing to do, because of all the noises in the room.

'Oh, such a hard childhood!' exclaimed Aviana, looking at one of the cards. 'It's going to be hard for him to adjust to de new environment. Make sure to set up certain rules and boundaries, but don't push de boy. Be gentle and strict at de same time. If he misbehaves, tell him what he did and why is it wrong, but remind him dat you will always love him. At this age it's difficult to accept de changes, but not impossible!'

With those words the fortune-teller rose from the floor and went to Elizabeth, taking her hands.

'He may say otherwise, but he cares. Don't leave him.' Aviana's voice was calm and serious at this moment and for a split second, El thought that the woman's accent was gone. But everything changed in a blink of an eye, and a moment later, Aviana was at the other side of the room.

'And, Elizabeth, you have to be more open to your family. Reveal your secret to them.' shouted Aviana.

'What secret? I don't know what you're talking about.' answered El, trying to remember if she really had some kind of secret.

'What are you talking about, Aviana?' asked Mandy.

'Oh, no, no, no! De spirits don't allow me to tell. Only Elizabeth can tell you.' said Aviana, coming back with a small smoking pot.

'De curse can be lifted from your son, Amanda. But, first, I need to clean your aura.'

With that she started making circles around the couch, whispering strange words. Ten minutes later Aviana stopped, to which Elizabeth was grateful, as her vision was getting blurry from all the smells and noises. One more minute in that room and she would see "de spirits" herself!

'Here. Take de water and spit it on your son. When he is leaving, put some of de garlic I gave you de last time, in his car. And de most important thing. Bake him a chocolate cake. Dat should do de trick and de curse will be gone forever.'

'Thank you, my dear!' answered Mandy, taking the bottle of water from Aviana and giving her money. Aviana took the cash without hesitation and carefully hid it in her bosom.

'De spirits appreciate your generosity! Come back any time!'

Elizabeth and Mandy were slowly walking back home.

'Maybe Aviana really has a gift… She was right about Neal and even gave a good advice.' said El, thinking about what just happened.

'Of course! Never doubt her abilities.' replied Amanda.

'But do you think that water and garlic will help?' asked Elizabeth.

'Most certainly not! But it gives me peace to know that I did everything in my power to help my family.' said Mandy. 'Besides, Aviana is such a good woman. She will always listen and you can be sure that she won't start any gossips!'

At this moment Elizabeth's phone started ringing and the two women stopped their conversation.


	13. Things you don't get to choose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all, who is reading and a huge hug for those, who leave reviews! Thank you all! I really appreciate!  
> And before you start reading. There are some extracts from the song by Mr. President called "Coco Jambo.' I don't own that. And I don't own White Collar.

As soon as Peter, Richard and Neal left the house, they went straight into a garage, in the middle of which was standing a car, covered with an old dusty rug that used to be white in its good ol' days. While Neal was looking around, Richard pulled the rug, revealing a small car. It was a Fiat 500 of 1966 – a cute ocean-blue car with round headlights, which reminded bug's eyes. At the sight of the car, Peter smiled and rushed to help his father.

'I kept my promise, Pete!' said Richard, patting his son on the shoulder and looking fondly at the car. 'Our baby is as good as new!'

Neal stepped closer to have a better look. He wouldn't say that the "baby" was as good as new. The teenager even doubted that the engine still worked and if it did, the car was probably running only on prayers. Neal wisely kept his thoughts to himself, but Richard saw the look on his face.

'Come here, son. I'll show you something.' said Richard and led Neal to the back of the car. He opened it. Everything inside was tidy; the details looked as if they were new. The engine was almost sparkling.

'It's not a car, Neal. It's a bird! And the engine is a beast! A wild beast, I'm telling you.' said Richard.

'If the engine is here, where is the trunk?' asked Neal, confused.

'In the front.' replied Peter. 'Where else would it be?'

The agent opened the door with some force, making the old metal creak so loud, that Neal closed one eye and grimaced. Peter leaned forward and closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of the old car.

'Behave yourself and I'll ask dad to let you check out the mustang in action, when you get your driver's license.' said Peter.

'Sounds like a threat.' mumbled Neal. 'First you torture me with those boring reports and now this?! What have I done to deserve it?'

Peter sighed and went closer to Neal, wrapping his arm around the teenager's shoulders.

'You have no idea how many memories are connected with that car.' said Peter.

'And how much time and connections it took to get it in the first place.' added Richard.

'I remember I took it for a date once.' continued Peter, laying one hand on the roof of the Fiat.

'And I remember changing the tires afterwards.' said Richard and started laughing. 'Peter, do you remember that time when…'

Both men dived into pleasant reminiscences. And Neal was lost in his own thoughts. Now he understood Peter more. Now Neal saw not Peter-the-agent, but Peter-the-human, who wasn't born perfect and made his own mistakes, but who had people, that loved him unconditionally. Neal was looking at Peter and his father, and suddenly that old rusty metal can didn't look that bad…

And then thoughts about Adler and the painting came into Neal's mind. How much the teenager wanted to confess in everything and beg Peter for forgiveness and help. But he couldn't. That would ruin everything. And Neal couldn't let that happen.

'Neal!'

'Sorry, Peter. I didn't hear you.' replied the teenager and noticed that Richard was getting into the car.

'Hop in.' said Peter opening the door.

'What? You can't expect me to…' began Neal.

He was interrupted by the roar of the engine. A few seconds later small clouds of smoke came out of the exhaust pipe.

Neal looked sadly at Peter, who was still holding the door. The engine roared again, this time even louder, making the whole car shake.

'Do I have to?' asked Neal, looking as pathetic as he could.

Peter nodded in reply, trying his best not to laugh. With a dramatic sigh Neal finally got into the vehicle.

'You know, Peter, I'm starting to appreciate your Taurus more.' said Neal, for whose knees there wasn't enough room. 'No, I think I love it now.' he added, when his head met the roof of the Fiat.

'Glad to hear it, buddy.' replied Peter, trying to find a comfortable position as well.

He glanced at his father, who was shining like a Christmas tree, regardless of the fact that his legs made it difficult to turn the steering wheel. Nevertheless, people in the car, at least those who were sitting in the front, remained cheerful all the way. This made Neal to brighten up a little and when the car stopped, everyone was in good spirits.

'Peter told me you are not a huge sports' fan' said Richard when they were passing a big baseball field, and when the young con shook his head, Richard continued. 'Well, maybe Peter will be able to change your mind. He was a good baseball player back in the days.'

'Really, Peter?' asked Neal, as his eyes widened with surprise.

'Yep. But I'll tell you later about it.' answered the agent.

'He was good.' continued Richard. 'Could have been a professional player, but circumstances led him to the FBI, for which Mandy and I still thank all the saints. If it wasn't for this job, he would probably be single. You know, Neal, when Peter brought Elizabeth and introduced her, I knew she was the one. And then I…'

'You know, dad, when you tell this story you make it sound like you were the reason we got married.' interrupted Peter.

'Well, I played my part in this.' declared Richard, walking into a café.

Neal was surprised to see that there were a lot of people, mostly men. Some of them were reading newspapers, some were discussing political issues and some older men were playing chess. For a second, the young con even forgot where he was, because this place looked more like a café in the center of New York during lunch time: serious conversations, brief cases, suits…

'Peter? Is that you?' asked a man, who Neal assumed was a waiter.

'Brian!' exclaimed Peter and hugged the man, who was about his own age.

'It's been a long time! How are you doing? Where's Mr. Wheeler?'

'Dad is out of town for a few days.' explained Brian. 'Such a shame you didn't get to see him. He's on the roll and is planning on starting a new business!'

'I can easily imagine that.' replied the agent, sitting down at the table. 'I see the idea with the café turned out pretty good.'

'Yep. And I say, forget Wall Street and Broadway! "Wheeler's" is a new financial, political and cultural center.' answered Brian, with a hint of pride in his voice. Noticing Richard, Brian greeted the eldest Burke and smiled as if he had just won in a lottery. 'I didn't know you had a son, Peter! How come I'm not a Godfather?'

'It's a long story, Brian…'

'Oh, Peter, Peter, Peter! We live in the 21st century; there is no time for long stories. Hmm, he looks more like Elizabeth though. Anyway, can I get you anything, fellows? No, wait! Don't say a thing! I know exactly what you need.'

Neal never thought that any human being could talk so fast… Forget about talking! He never thought a man could walk so fast! Seemed like only a couple of seconds passed since Brian's raven black haired head disappeared into the kitchen. And now he was coming back with a silver-colored tray with three small cups on it.

'Nowadays, there is no time for anything. But if you save some precious minutes by avoiding long conversations and too much breathing, then you'll be able to spend those minutes on something really important. Coffee.' said Brian, putting cups on the table.

Seeing that a man, who sitting near a large window, needed his attendance, Mr. Wheeler Junior rushed there, gliding between the tables, passing smartly decorated menus on the way and asking if everyone was pleased at the same time. A few minutes later Brian was on his way back, leaving some things at the old wooden bar stand.

'If you want to understand life, all you need is a cup of strong coffee.' continued Brian, looking with fascination at all the visitors. 'The first small sip hides love, betrayal, treachery, trust, loyalty and other ingredients of life. A sensation of the first kiss, a rush of adrenalin as if you're looking death in the eyes and that unforgettable feeling of success, when you achieved some significant heights – this is what's waiting for you in the last drop.'

Neal had no idea what he enjoyed more: the coffee itself or those emotions with which Brian was talking. He glanced at Peter and Richard. Both men were sitting with their eyes half-closed with pleasure, which left no doubt that they didn't care much about Brian's words.

'Well, other clients are waiting! Enjoy!' half-sang Brian and continued working.

A few minutes were passed in silence, not counting the sounds of cups and glasses being constantly put down on the tables and voices talking on different topics.

'He's always been a windbag.' said Richard, leaning back in his chair.

'But you have to admit he's good at what he does.' answered his son.

'If you ask me, I think it's great when a person is so passionate about his job. Besides, I found his speech pretty inspiring.' said Neal, looking at Brian, who was telling something to a man sitting at the opposite side of the café.

'All that he said is true, I'm not going to argue with that.' replied Richard. 'But Brian forgot that between the first sip and the last drop there is the main part of the divine drink, and it should be drunk in silence.'

At his moment a man in a bright green shirt entered the café. He had grey hair and dark grey eyes, or at least they seemed to be grey from under the thick glasses on his nose. He walked slowly towards the table.

'Hey, Rick!' greeted the man. 'And who do we have here? My, my! Peter!'

'Good to see you Mr. Hall.' answered Peter, standing up and shaking hands with the man.

Neal felt that he was being pulled up and before he could register what was happening, Richard and Peter were introducing him.

'Thomas, this is Neal.' said Richard, patting the teenager on the shoulder.

Thomas Hall seemed like a good old man but Neal still felt very uncomfortable. The young con didn't have trouble with plastering a smile on his face, but he couldn't stop thinking that he was a rock among the flowers. Neal nodded and kept smiling all the time while Peter and Richard were talking with Thomas. If you don't know what to say, it's better to listen.

'I'm looking for a worthy opponent. Do you know how to play, kid?' asked Mr. Hall, nodding towards one of the tables with a chess board on it.

'Who? Me?' To say that Neal was surprised is to say nothing. He looked at Thomas, as if his face suddenly turned the same colour as his shirt. 'Um… Well, I know how to play…'

'Good. Let's go.' answered Thomas, not waiting for Neal to finish.

The teenager didn't have much choice but to follow. The situation got even weirder for Neal. Strangers don't usually smile at you and then offer you to play chess… Ten minutes later Neal was completely engrossed in the game, forgetting all about his doubts and insecurities.

Peter and Richard were sitting at the nearby table, watching the game. Richard looked at Peter, who was actually watching Neal and not the game itself.

'So, what are you planning on doing with him?' asked Richard, looking at his son.

'Everything in my power to keep him on straight and narrow.'

'I wasn't talking about that, Pete.' stated Richard and when Peter finally turned to his father, continued. 'Neal is a smart kid, but without a high school diploma he won't be able to stay on straight and narrow, as you put it. Good education is the main…'

'Foundation. Yeah, I remember that.' said Peter. His eyes travelled back to Neal, who clearly losing but kept playing anyway. 'Neal had been on the streets for three years, dad. I'm not sure if he's ready to go back to school. We were thinking about home-schooling…'

'Nonsense. Have you seen him, Peter? He enjoys being with people and locking him up would be the worst thing to do. Do you want him to grow up to become a responsible young man or do you want a pretty little dandelion? If it were up for me to decide, I would have sent him to military school.'

At that comment Peter only laughed but didn't reply.

'Mandy keeps in touch with some people from that private school in Manhattan. Think about it.' said Richard and seeing that Neal and Thomas finished their game stood up.

'So, who won?'

'Mr. Hall.' replied Neal, looking up at Richard.

'It was a nice game, though. Keep up the good work, Neal, and come visit me the next time you're in Cooperstown. I'll show you a couple of tricks.' said Thomas and winked.

'Thomas, have you seen Jack today?' asked Richard after congratulating his friend on the victory.

'He's at his usual spot.' replied Mr. Hall.

Paying for the coffee and saying their goodbyes, the trio left.

* * *

'Chess is a good game, an exercise for the brain.' said Richard, pulling up the car after no more than five minutes later since they left the café.

'But we are here to have fun! Right, Neal?'

'Yeah, I guess so.' answered Neal, happy to get out of the car.

Richard went to the gates, asking his old pal if they could walk through.

'I want to show my grandson the local sights.' said Richard.

'Your grandson?' asked the red-faced guard, opening the gates. 'Why didn't you say so in the first place?'

Richard gestured for Peter and Neal to follow and the boy didn't even have time to read the sign on the gates.

Soon Neal stopped and looked around. A huge green field, surrounded by different kinds of trees and somewhere in the distance a deep blue lake, merging with the sky of the same colour was all that could be seen. Beautiful? Yes. Fun? No, no fun here.

'Peter, I thought your dad said we were going to have fun?'

'We are.' answered the agent simply, walking with huge steps across the field, so that Neal had trouble with keeping up with him.

'But it's just a field! What are we going to do here? We should've brought food so that we could have a picnic at least.' said Neal.

'I think you've had enough food for today.' replied Peter.

'There is nobody here!' continued whining the teenager.

'Look attentively.'

Peter showed Neal a group of people in the distance. Richard was already standing with them. This is when the teenager noticed that it wasn't just a field. There were little flags everywhere and people were holding gold clubs.

'Golf?!' squeaked Neal. 'This is your idea of fun? Oh, come on! Can I go back to playing chess? Peter! Don't pretend that you don't hear me! At least slow do… Ouch!'

Hearing the pitiful cry, Peter finally turned around and saw Neal sitting in a small pit.

'You okay?' asked the older man, giving his hand to the young con, who refused to stand up.

'No thank you. I'm good. Fresh air, soft grass – just what I need.'

'Come on, Neal. I won't be waiting for you all day.' said Peter, losing patience.

Richard saw that something was wrong and went back only to see Peter and Neal both on the ground.

'What's going on here?' he asked in authoritative voice.

'Trying to persuade Neal to go with us.' answered Peter, standing up and pulling up the boy with him.

'I don't like golf.' declared Neal, sending glares at Peter.

'Who said anything about golf? We're just passing through the gold course to get to the lake.' answered Richard laughing. And it's not about what you're going to do, it's about spending time with your family.'

Richard wrapped his arm around Neal's shoulders and they started walking towards the lake. Peter was about to say something but his phone began ringing. He made excuses and stepped aside.

'And here I am talking about spending time with family and my own son abandons me. But this is what members of the family do, Neal. They put up with each other.'

'Sorry. It's work.' said Peter, catching up.

'Is something wrong?' asked Neal.

'No, in fact, I think we might get a break-through on the Hopson's case…'

'The jewelry heist?'

'Yep. Wait, how did you know? Neal, if you have been sticking your nose…' began Peter, shaking his finger in front of the teenager's face.

'Stop it.' said Richard. 'No talks about work.'

'Yes, Peter! Don't be such a workaholic.' agreed Neal, glad to change the subject.

At this time the trio was walking along the bank of the lake. The warm wind of the late summer's afternoon was blowing, bringing with it the portion of fresh air combined with music… Wait a second… Music?!

A few meters ahead Neal saw a small boat. That's where the music was coming from. As they went closer the young con began to understand the words.

'Yayaya Coco Jambo, yaya yee…'

A man in red shorts was repairing the boat's engine. He didn't notice, when Richard, Peter and Neal came up to him. The music was still thundering and the man was singing along, missing every single note.

'Put me up, put me down

Put my feet back on the ground.' With those words the man jumped into the air, leaning on the boat.

Neal could watch that little performance all day but Richard had other plans.

'Hey, Jack!' he shouted, so that he could be heard.

Jack, whose arms were covered in engine oil up to the elbows, turned around and smiled, showing a couple of golden teeth. He shook hands with Richard and Peter, firstly wiping his arms with something not less dirty. When it was Neal's turn to greet Jack, the teenager didn't hesitate and took his oily hand, much to Peter's surprise.

'Seems like only yesterday Peter was your age.' said Jack in a guttural voice. His rare chocolate brown hair was plastered with sweat to his receding forehead and his light eyes were sparkling.

'So, you are here for the "Road of Passions".' stated Jack, finally releasing Neal's hand from his strong grip.

'Yes, we are.' confirmed Peter, smiling upon Neal's reaction.

'The road of what?!' exclaimed the teenager.

At this moment, the song, which was playing all this time came to the part:

'Scream and shout

Turn and say columbo,

Now I gotta go yo coco.'

Jack put his hand on Neal's shoulder, ruining his shirt with the stains and turned the boy so that he was looking at the lake.

'The sea is a road of passions. Once you step on it, you'll never be able to look back. And maybe it will be a bumpy ride, but in the end you'll understand that it was worth it.' said Jack, looking tenderly at the water.

Neal glanced back at Peter and Richard and then looked in front of him again.

'I thought it was a lake, Jack.' remarked Neal.

'It depends at which angle you look.' came the reply.

Jack stood for a couple of seconds, looking at the lake and then went to get the equipment.

'He was a sailor.' said Richard, coming closer to Neal, who was turning his head in different directions and trying to catch the "right angle" and "sea the see".

'And a man who truly loves what he does can never quit.'

Neal raised his eyes to the sky and wondered if that sentence could be referred to him in any way. Once a con, always a con? The teenager tried to convince himself that he had no choice at that time but to lie and steal, that there was no other way to survive… But now he doesn't need to survive, he has Peter and El… Why can't he just settle down and forget about Adler and forgeries?! Simple. Because he likes it. He enjoys the thrill of being on the edge, of almost getting caught but slipping away in time. Neal knew that what he was doing was illegal but in his opinion the law was not always fair. Why should a masterpiece rot in a private collection of some sophomore just because he has a "legal right"? But still. Do ends justify the means?

Peter was watching carefully. He knew that something was going on… No, actually, he knew exactly what was going on: Neal was having an inner argument. The teenager needed to make a decision, a decision on which lots of things would depend. How much Peter wanted to influence on that choice but he knew that some things in life you have to do by yourself.

Richard looked at Peter and Neal. How could they both be so serious, when the song, which never stopped, was now roaring even loader?

Finally, Jack returned, carrying water skis, helmets, ropes and lots of other things.

Neal felt that something was put on his head, and returned to earth, where Peter was putting on a helmet.

'We're first.' he said, smiling like a child who was given a new toy.

'Is this even safe?' asked Neal, nevertheless securing the helmet.

'Since when do you care about safety?' asked the agent and made his way to the boat. 'Don't worry. I've done it thousands of times and I'm perfectly fine.' added Peter, trying to encourage Neal.

'It depends on which definition of "fine" you use.' responded the boy.

Much too soon for Neal's preference, the boat started moving. Neal felt how everything in his body tensed, starting with his legs and arms, and finishing with his eyes, which were ready to pop out from their orbits. He was gripping the steel rope, as if his life was depending on it, which was actually true. After a few seconds, which felt more like a couple of hours to Neal, the young con thought that he was slowly becoming the steel rope himself, as each and every muscle was strained. Neal wanted to shout that he was still young and loved his life dearly, but when he opened his mouth, splashes of cold water made him forget even his own name.

Somehow, without even turning his head, Neal managed to glance at Peter. The older man was a picture of tranquility and pure happiness. To Peter the splashes of water, to which Neal referred as "the deathly daggers" in his mind, were the drops of life. Looking at Peter, Neal noticed that the tension began to disappear…

Peter would never do anything to hurt him so it was safe and Neal trusted Peter to keep him safe. With that Neal relaxed. He gained control over his body and wasn't feeling scared anymore. With every passing second Neal could practically feel how his imaginary wings were spreading. Now he wasn't hiding his face from the wind but was flying towards it. And every single drop of water that touched his skin added new shades and nuances to this newly discovered adventure. Nothing was on his mind: nothing good and nothing bad. But there wasn't any emptiness. Every cell of Neal's body, every molecule of his existence was filled with different kinds of pleasant emotions. No thoughts, which meant no worries, guaranteed something that Neal hadn't felt for a long time. Freedom. That was the only thing on his mind from the second he had realized that until the moment when the boat stopped.

Stepping on the ground and taking off the helmet, the teenager felt how his legs were shaking. That was probably because of the tension.

'Wow! Peter! It was so… so… AWESOME!' said Neal, struggling to find the right words.

'Don't speak.' answered the agent casually, as if water skiing was the thing he did every day. 'Just remember this feeling.'

'That's my boy!' said Richard, coming up to Peter. 'For a second there I thought you've lost your groove in that office of yours. 'Neal, what do you think?'

'I've never seen Peter like this, that's for sure.'

'And who showed him how to do this?' asked Richard rhetorically, taking a helmet from his son. 'Watch and learn, boys. Watch and learn!'

'Are you ready, Rick?'

'Hit it, Jack!'

Neal, in whom all spectres of emotions were still having a wild party, was watching as Richard was doing different figures, raising arms and legs. Everything was fine but when the boat went on its second lap, Richard suddenly fell into the water. Luckily, it wasn't far from the shore, so Peter immediately rushed to help his father, ordering Neal to stand aside. Just a couple of minutes later, they were standing near the teenager.

'I am FINE, Peter!' grumbled Richard. 'It's just radiculitis.'

'Dad, you're…'

'FINE.'

'Depends on which definition of "fine" you use!'

'Hey, that's my phrase!' said Neal.

Peter ignored that interruption and helped Richard, who was holding his back, to sit down.

'Maybe we should call the ambulance?'

'No, absolutely not! No need to distract doctors from the real work.'

At that point, Jack came back. Jumping out of the boat, he quickly made his way to the trio.

'What happened?! I turned my head for a second and then you were gone!'

'Everything is alright, Jack. I was…'

'Um, I hate to interrupt, but I think that's for you.' said Neal, pointing towards the ambulance car, which was parking nearby.

'Who called them?! Peter, I told you not to call!' exploded Richard, still holding his back and trying to suppress the groans that were threatening to escape.

'Actually, I called the doctors.' said Jack and catching a pointed glare from Richard, added. 'I thought you drowned.'

'Jack, I can swim, for your information, and the next time…' began Richard but seeing that a few doctors were running towards him, moved his attention towards them. 'Everyone is alive. No need to hurry.'

Nevertheless, Richard allowed the doctors to their work. But when one of them mentioned going to the hospital, Richard was ready to throw a fight. Fortunately, a cute nurse managed to talk some sense into the old man.

Richard was talking to the nurse, not even bothering that his son was watching. Peter saw how the young woman's cheeks turned from pale to pink. How she started laughing softly, while helping Richard to stand up. Peter couldn't help but wonder how his father managed to do that. He was comfortable around women of all ages and social statuses. He wasn't afraid to talk with them and sometimes, even though he wasn't the freshest fruit on the market, openly flirt! Nevertheless, Richard continued to stay a loyal husband and an exemplary family man.

'I'm still not sure if you're his son.' said Neal, trying to lighten up the mood.

'Keep it up and you'll be writing my reports for the next week.' replied Peter, searching for his phone.

'But don't call Mandy!' said Richard, getting into the car. 'Call Elizabeth.'

'Don't worry, Dad. I'll call El.' replied Peter and dialed the number, interrupting Mandy and El's conversation.

* * *

When the two women finally got to the hospital, Elizabeth thought that she was in need of a medical help herself. She was really worried about Richard, and Mandy's moaning didn't make the situation any better. They were about to enter a small building, when they heard familiar voices.

'… my car. Therefore, I'm driving. What do those doctors know? Especially that one, with red hair. He's probably only a few years older than Neal! No offence, but what do such young people know?'

'Of course he doesn't have much experience but he had medical training.' Neal tried to reason with Richard.

'Maybe his diploma is a fake!'

'No, I don't think it's a fake.' replied the teenager.

'Neal knows what he's talking about, dad.' said Peter. Somebody, give the poor FBI agent some aspirin! He thought his head was going to explode.

As soon as Mandy saw her husband and understood that he really was fine, all of her worries were forgotten. She marched towards the car, with El following.

'You are not 20 years old, Richard!' said Mandy, trying hard not to shout. 'I told you not to go water skiing!'

'Mandy, pumpkin…' Richard leaned forward to kiss his wife but she pushed him away, although very gently. "We just wanted to show Neal around, to let him know what it's like to have real fun.'

'Don't shift the blame to Neal! You decided to have fun yourself. Like I don't know your tricks, you used to do the same when Peter was younger!' continued Mandy.

Neal was looking at the elderly couple with respect and some amusement. Amanda was scolding her husband, but still was helping him to get into the car.

Neal noticed that Richard had a very loud voice, which was actually hard NOT to notice. But now, when he was speaking with his wife, although "arguing" would probably be a more appropriate word, Richard was speaking very quietly and softly. And it wasn't because he was afraid of her or any other nonsense. No. Love – was the only reason.

Neal glanced at Peter, who was discussing something with Elizabeth. The younger Burke was speaking in the same manner. No doubt now. Peter was really his parents' son.

'El, what is that on your neck?!' asked Peter, looking with wide eyes at the necklace, made from dry flowers, feathers and teeth.

'We've been to that Indian shop.' replied Mandy, getting into the car and shutting the door.

'So, another fortune-teller?' Peter asked knowingly.

'Yes… how did you know?'

'Whenever Mom goes to see a fortune-teller, she tells Dad that she's going to the Indian shop. I think it's the only secret between them. Promise to tell me later about this trip.' the agent started laughing. 'Come on. Looks like I'm driving.'

'Actually, I'd better walk. It's not so far and I'm still a bit dizzy.' said El and took off the horrible necklace, about which she had totally forgotten.

Before Peter had a chance to protest Neal volunteered to join Elizabeth.

After Peter and his parents left, Elizabeth and Neal started slowly walking towards the house. Neal told her everything that happened and it was clear that he was really enjoying this.

'So you and Richard get along pretty well?'

'Peter's dad is awesome.' replied Neal. After a few minutes of silence he spoke up again, 'You know, El… I have never even imagined Peter like this.'

'What do you mean, Neal?'

'I don't know. It's just… When I looked at him and saw how calm and happy he was… It's hard to explain, Elizabeth. I think I'm used to thinking about Peter as "Special Agent in Charge'. It's normal for me to see Peter at the Bureau in the horrible suit of his, looking all serious and respected. And when he gathers up his team with that double-finger point, I even wish to be like him… Well, at least in some ways. Just don't tell him that, OK? Or he'll pop up like a hot-air balloon from pleasure.'

Neal was silent for a few minutes and then finally decided to continue.

'That day, when we went shopping and had amazing pancakes for breakfast… By the way, can we have those again?' when Elizabeth nodded, Neal went on. 'The strangest thing started happening. Peter… um… he became double.'

'Double?' asked El.

'Yeah… Two completely different people. Agent Burke, for whom law is air, and Peter, who enjoys doing normal stuff like the rest of humanity and who thinks he's doing something nice, by ruining your hair. And I can't bring those two Peters together… Am I going crazy, El?'

'No, Neal. You're not going crazy. In fact, it was hard for me too at first. I still remember the first time I was at his office… Don't worry, eventually, you'll be able to bring two Peters together. I don't know if that's supposed to make you feel any better, but Peter and I are also trying hard to see the real Neal Caffrey.'

'Why?'

'Because almost everything we know about you is based on police reports. But again, eventually, we'll figure everything out. For now, we just need to keep solving those puzzles.'

'Sounds good.' replied the teenager. 'I like puzzles.'

With that, they came to the house. Seeing that Peter was at the garage, Neal went to join him and Elizabeth went into the house. Richard was lying on the couch. Mandy was hovering around her husband, bringing him tea and adjusting the pillows.

'How is he?' asked El quietly, not to disturb moaning Richard.

'He'll be fine. I called the doctor and he said that after a course of physiotherapy, he'll be as good as new. Besides, he was given a shot at the hospital. To tell you the truth, he doesn't even need bed rest.' answered Mandy.

Hearing this, Richard slowly raised his head and turned to look at his wife. He stayed in bed, only to avoid Mandy's anger.

'That you don't need to stay in bed? Yes.' came the reply.

'Then what am I still doing here?' asked Richard, jumping off the couch and immediately returning from the dead. 'Where are my boys?'

'At the garage.' said El but Richard was already closing the front door.

* * *

When it was finally time to go to bed, Peter was ready to fall asleep the second his head touched the pillow, maybe even earlier! However, Elizabeth had other plans. She told Peter what happened at Aviana's house and now was wondering if that woman really was a fortune-teller.

'Something is not right about her. How could she know all those things? And those shoes… so magnificent! I'm telling you, Peter, it's worth investigating!'

Peter was tired. He was simply exhausted. He was struggling no to fall asleep during El's story, but every time closed his eyes it was harder to open them again. Fortune-teller, sounds, Facebook, shoes… How all of this was connected Peter had no idea, until…

'… and then Aviana…'

'Wait a second. Did you say Aviana?' asked Peter regaining his consciousness for a minute.

'Yes. Aviana. She told us everything about Neal! Can you believe that?' continued El.

'Actually, I can.' replied Peter and stretched his hand to take a laptop from the table.

'Is that her?' he asked, showing a photo of a woman with dark long hair.

'Yes!' said Elizabeth and looked questioningly at her husband, when he started laughing.

'Only Aviana could pull something like this! Ha! Fortune-teller!'

When Peter calmed down a little, he opened some websites and gave El the laptop.

'Aviana is a psychologist. She is one of the best. Of course, she has her own strange things going on in her mind, like shoes. I've noticed it, when she's been helping us with Neal's psychological portrait. And she was also working with him, when he was at the hospital.' explained Peter. 'That's how she knew so much about Caffrey.'

Having said that, Peter let the yawn, which he was suppressing for so long, escape. In a few seconds he was fast asleep, while El was reading Aviana's articles with pure fascination.

* * *

The next morning everybody was getting ready for the main event of the weekend: Richard and Mandy's wedding anniversary. Especially for this day, the town's biggest restaurant was rented. The Burkes weren't planning to turn it into something huge, but it happened anyway. And although they weren't used to having such pompous parties, all of them had to agree that everything was magnificent.

As the time went closer to noon, guests started gathering. There were quite a lot of people. Most of them Neal didn't know but he quickly got acquainted with them. But there were also some familiar faces. Brian was advising Neal which sweets to taste and Thomas Hall introduced him to some people. Then Jack arrived and Neal found himself laughing and having fun in a good company.

'Elizabeth! Good to see you!'

El turned around and saw Aviana standing next to her in a long sparkling dress. Her curled hair lay on her shoulders and her make-up wasn't as wild as the last time Elizabeth saw her.

'Such a great occasion! Such a great holiday! De spirits presented me with new shoes.' said Aviana, showing El a brand new pair from Jimmy Choo's collection.

'I'm so glad for you.' replied El. 'Although, I know that you are not a fortune-teller.' she added in a whisper.

'Oh, such a relief! Now I can talk without that accent.' answered Aviana, much to El's surprise. 'So, how is Agent Burke? And what about Neal?'

'Good. They're both doing pretty well. And by the way, I really like your new shoes.' said El.

Aviana smiled and adjusted her hair, looking down at her feet. Then, she took El's hand as if they were best friends, who haven't seen each other for a long time.

'Everyone has an obsession of some kind. I'm a psychologist and I know how hard it is to fight with an obsession. It's almost impossible to overcome but it's more than possible to learn to live with it. My obsession is shoes. I used to spend all my money but one day I decided that it needed to stop. So now, I buy shoes only on important occasions, such as today.'

'That's so interesting, Aviana. How can you control yourself?' asked Elizabeth.

'When I want to buy shoes and I know that I don't need them, I tell myself one simple phrase. Live, Aviana, LIVE.' explained Aviana.

'Why this phrase?'

'Well, at first I tried telling myself to breathe and walk away. Tell you what, breathing is good, but it doesn't help. But when you tell yourself to live, when you persuade yourself that sooner or later you will come back and that's why you need to live. You'll be able to walk away, trust me.'

'Interesting theory.'

'More than a theory, my dear Elizabeth! It works!' answered Aviana, glancing at her shoes again. 'Almost forgot! Have you told Peter the big news? Hope you'll invite me to the party. I've already chosen a pair from Louis Vuitton's new collection.'

'Aviana, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about!'

'How exciting! Well, I'm almost finished with gathering information for my new project and I'll soon return to New York. I'll give you a call and you'll tell me how Peter reacted.' said Aviana, leading Elizabeth to sit down.

Neal recognized Aviana the second she went in. He immediately decided to help Peter with whatever he was doing at the other side of the room.

'Peter, what is SHE doing here?'

'Who?'

'That strange psychologist Aviana!'

'She was invited. And don't worry she's not here to torture you.' replied Peter calmly.

'She was asking me about my DREAMS, Peter! And when I said that I didn't remember any of them, she declared that I was hiding something.'

'You haven't met El's father yet.' said Peter, greeting one of the passing guests. 'He just sits there and stares.'

'Stares? How?'

Peter looked at Neal for a couple of seconds, without blinking.

'That's how.' said the agent.

At that moment Mandy went by and splashed some water on Peter.

'Oh, sorry dear! My arms are not as good as they used to be.'

When Peter's mother walked away, the agent looked at her and then at Aviana, who was still talking with Elizabeth.

'I bet Aviana told her to do that, while pretending to be a fortune-teller. It's the third time Mom splashed water on me!' complained Peter and Neal started giggling.

'I think I should give her a chance!' said the teenager, leaving Peter's side.

That day couldn't be any better. Perfect weather, good music, dances, delicious food and most importantly – people, with whom Neal felt comfortable.

The teenager didn't want this day to end but, unfortunately, you can't stop time, and soon it was time to leave.

'Sorry we can't stay any longer.' said Peter, hugging his parents.

'Don't worry, dear. I hope we'll see you soon.' said Mandy. 'I don't want to make empty promises but we are planning to come visit you.'

'Yep, the kid will go to school and we want to help the lad to get through the tough first days.' added Richard.

'Thanks, Richard.' said Neal. Those words warmed his heart.

'Sure thing, son.' replied the eldest Burke, hugging the teenager. 'Keep an eye on Peter.'

'I will.'

'Elizabeth, dear, if you need anything, just give me a call. The Indian shop's doors are always open for me.' said Mandy.

After another round of hugs and kisses, the Taurus and its passengers were on their way back to the city that never sleeps.


	14. There is no such thing as a final decision

Mozzie always knew what he wanted and how to get it. If he didn't know how to get something, it wouldn't take long before he figured it out. But now Mozzie's most precious source – his mind – was a complete mess. Memories of the past, his current situation and thoughts about the future were all mixed up in Mozzie's head.

Appreciation… Acknowledgement… Why should he even think about such things? He was always the man behind the curtains and he was satisfied with that. Satisfaction isn't happiness… Who let that thought into his head?! He had probably fallen a victim of some government issued experiment! He knew he shouldn't have bought anything from that lady. Those nails of hers could have hidden anything: from cameras to microchips with GPS.

While Mozzie was trying to solve the mystery of who had enough courage to sell him out as a guinea pig to the feds, his own legs – traitors! – brought him to one of many places which Mozzie tried to avoid at all cost. The building of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

The lights could be seen only in a few windows, which was no wonder, as it was Saturday and way past 10 p. m. Mozzie knew that Peter… the Suit! Brain, start functioning already! The Suit was gone for the weekend, so…

Mozzie's train of thought was interrupted when the door opened and a man stumbled out of the building. He was carrying a few boxes, which were too big and too heavy for him to handle alone. The man started walking only to stop just a few steps away from the entrance. He carefully put down his load and taking off his glasses, turned towards the building and raised his hand, so that some light could fall on his enormous spectacles. The man was looking at his glasses for a few moments. He squinted and narrowed his eyes a couple of times before noticing what was wrong and bringing the glasses closer to his face. He blew on the spectacles and raised his hand again. The procedure was repeated no less than four times and only after that the man had finally put on his glasses and slowly turned around to pick up the boxes.

On a good day Mozzie would have walked away, but something clicked in his head and he decided to help.

'Let me help you with that.' said Mozzie, taking a box from the top and wondering if he would look like that man in twenty years.

'Oh, thank you.' replied the man in a monotonous, emotionless way. 'Be careful. If something in there breaks, it will most probably blow up this whole place.'

'Unless you have nitroglycerine in there, I think we'll be fine.'

The stranger raised his eyebrows, which caused the glasses to slide down his nose. Mozzie met his gaze and the heart of the younger man slopped lifelessly to his heels. What has he gotten himself into?!

A few moments passed with the strange man walking towards one of the parked cars and Mozzie silently following him.

When they finally reached the car and all of the boxes were secured in the trunk of the red vehicle, Mozzie's first instinct was to vanish into thin air. But as that day proved to be supernatural, Mozzie stayed.

'Anthony Parks.' the man finally introduced himself and before Mozzie got a chance to reply, added. 'And I'm not suicidal to carry nitroglycerine around.'

'Dante Haversham and I appreciate your sense of humour. People with a good sense of humour have a better sense of life.'

'Ah, people are just a bunch of atoms, who think they created a prefect substance.' mumbled Anthony, opening the door of his car.

'That's why I don't trust atoms. They make up everything.'

Anthony turned around and looked at his acquaintance. This was something new. Usually he didn't get any response at all.

At the same time Mozzie eyed Anthony from head to toe. This man wasn't an open book… Should be interesting.

'Normally I wouldn't do that… but, maybe you'd like to join me for a couple of drinks?' asked Anthony in his tortoise-like manner.

'Since we've already shared a couple of jokes, we can't be called complete strangers. So, I'll accept the offer.'

Mozzie had never had such a great time in all his years. Not only was Anthony a good listener, he was a good story-teller. And there weren't too many things which could amuse Mozzie. After a few glasses of wine Anthony's ridiculously slow speech hadn't changed a bit, but at least Mozzie had enough alcohol in his system to put up with his newly found friend.

'And you know what they came up with?' asked Parks, taking off glasses and wiping them, using his thumbs. 'They bought paintings of some unknown artists of the needed period and changed a few details here and there. After that those works were posed as long-lost or unknown paintings of the world famous artists!'

Mozzie, who wasn't amazed for the first time that night, looked puzzled for a few minutes.

'So, technically those paintings weren't forgeries?'

'Exactly.' replied Anthony, half-closing his eyes, which made his resemblance to a huge old owl more striking.

'Since all of the canvases and paints were from the same period, I can assume that any chemical analyses were useless. Seems like a perfect crime.' concluded Mozzie.

'Could have been a perfect crime.'

'What happened? How did they get caught?'

'People always want their work to be appreciated and their names known.'

'They signed the paintings…'

Anthony nodded and emptied his glass.

'My advice is never do such a thing, if you can't put your name and be proud of it.'

* * *

It was getting close to midnight when Peter stopped the car in front of the house. The agent was ready to fall asleep in the car after a long journey, but gathered the last remaining crumbs of what used to be his strength and walked into the house.

Unlike Peter, who had passed out immediately as his head hit the pillow, Neal hadn't slept a wink that night. Now that they were back, the young con had no reason to put off the inevitable. He had to make a decision. Sweet freedom or strict, but in a way comforting boundaries? Should he choose what he wants? Or should he do what is right?

As the first rays of sun appeared above the horizon, the choice was made. Neal collected some of his things and looked across the room, before walking out and quietly shutting the door behind him. It's now or never.

* * *

Neal glanced at his watch. It was time for lunch and the teenager was waiting for Peter to leave his office. Right on time Peter and Jones walked out of the building. Neal waited until both agents disappeared from sight before casually walking into the building. Nobody was surprised to see Neal, as the agents already got used to him and some even called Caffrey "Burke's mini James Bonds". As much as Neal hated the nickname, it felt strangely nice to be accepted as a part of the team.

Neal made a scene out of walking towards the elevators, greeting everyone and shaking hands. Then pretending that he lost something, he turned into another direction and headed to one of the laboratories. Neal heard Peter talking to the lab consultant, asking him to do some additional analyses on the painting, so he knew that the painting Adler was after, was there.

The young con waited for the security guard to go away, and blinding with a special spray the only camera on that floor, went to open the door. As he had gotten the key-card earlier, that wasn't a problem at all. Carefully, not to be seen, Neal walked into the spacious laboratory. Not everyone was gone for lunch… What should he do now?!

The teenager noticed a few white medical robes hanging by the door. Not even thinking, Neal put on one of the robes and taking googles to cover his face, started looking for the painting, all the while trying to avoid any interaction with the workers. Those few people, who were working during lunch time, seemed to be determined to finish their work, so nobody looked at Neal.

Finally Neal noticed what he was looking for on one of the tables filled with different kinds of bottles, vials and test-tubes. He cautiously looked around and went to stand right in front of the painting. There wasn't too much time on his hands, so he swiftly took out the painting he brought with him. He was lucky that the painting was small and had no frame.

Neal looked at the two paintings. They looked almost the same, but something was off. Neal had quite a big experience when it came to copying or forging paintings. He also had a lot of practice. No way could he mess up something like that. But the shadows were all wrong…

That moment the boy heard voices. Some of the lab workers were coming back from lunch. Neal took the painting from the table and put it in his bag, replacing it with his own forgery.

Neal took off the googles and left them along with the robe on one of the chairs. Opening the door he looked around. Crap! Three men were coming towards the laboratory. The teenager tried to come up with some kind of an escape plan, but fortunately luck was on his side. Three consultants stopped to talk with the security guard, giving Neal enough time to walk out and hide at the nearby corner. A few minutes passed. Neal's heart was pounding like crazy. He never felt so nervous before. Well, it was his first time breaking into the FBI and stealing evidence from right under the feds' noses… Or maybe he grew soft while leaving with the Burkes.

The door of the laboratory closed behind the workers and Neal sighed with relief. He looked from around the corner and seeing that the guard left his post, silently rushed away.

He had enough time to calm his nerves while walking back to the lobby. Everything went as planned so far. Now he only needed to get out of the building and pass the painting to one of Adler's man, who was supposed to wait outside.

'Hey, son!' Neal heard a voice behind him. The teenager looked around to see one of the security guards. It was one of the older men and Neal knew him pretty well. He looked friendly and at first Neal thought that he was like a teddy bear: big and soft. As Neal learned later, this guy was one of the best guards. A fly couldn't pass without him knowing about it.

'Uh, hi, Mr. Daniels!' replied Neal, starting to feel anxious.

'Couldn't help but notice you running around with this bag.'

The guard crossed his arms and looked sternly at Neal, who had nothing to offer him but a smile.

'Agent Burke thinks I have too much free time.' said the teenager, shifting his weight from one foot to another. 'I brought him some of the paperwork, with which he loaded me last night. But instead of a simple "thank you" or "good job, buddy" I got even more reports to write.'

'I see.'

'Yeah… Well, it was nice talking to you, Mr. Daniels. I…'

'Not so fast.'

The guard put his hand on Neal's shoulders, when he tried to run away.

'Open the bag.'

Neal looked at the guard and opened the navy-blue bag. Inside were indeed some reports and a half-eaten sandwich. Good thing he thought of that! The great and mighty Neal Caffrey wouldn't be caught that easily! The young con smiled at the guard one more time, but his smile dropped when Mr. Daniels started looking through the contents of the bag.

'Mr. Daniels! I'm begging you! Don't tell Peter!'

All of a sudden Neal started shouting. Even a few tears appeared in his eyes. This caused a few agents to stop and the guard looked up at the teenager, who was now sobbing and sniffling.

'Hey, what's wrong?' asked Mr. Daniels kindly.

'If Peter finds out that I stained his reports, he'll be so, so mad! He… Please, Mr. Daniels, don't tell him!' continued his performance Neal.

Someone offered Neal some water, which he took gratefully. The teenager heard some agents whispering. Mr. Daniels felt uncomfortable with all the people around and let Neal go.

Finally, Neal left the building. When all of this was over, he would definitely try himself at acting. He was rather good!

Walking in fast and steady pace, Neal was heading towards one of the newspaper stands. He bought a magazine with a map of New York there, and crossed the road. Taking out his cell phone, the teenager pretended to write a text message, while he was waiting for the man, who was supposed to take the painting. He needn't have to wait long.

A man with a camera hanging on his neck stopped beside Neal.

"Excuse me. Me look for Hyde Park.' said the man with an accent.

Neal looked up at the man, trying to recognize him. No such luck. The young con took out the magazine and opened the page with a map. He explained to the stranger how to get to the park and gave him the magazine with the painting securely hidden between the pages. The man looked carefully through the magazine and seeing that everything was as it should be thanked Neal and left. The young con followed the man with his eyes. Maybe he should just walk away too? Nothing was holding him… No more orders from anyone, no more…

Neal stopped all the thoughts from crawling into his head. Now was not the time. Not everything was over yet.

The teenager started walking down the street, making sure he was not being followed. He subconsciously glanced at the time and told himself that there was no need to know the time. He had nowhere to hurry anyway…

Not long after that Neal was slowly strolling along one very familiar street. The excitement of his successful "operation" had been subdued a little and now Neal felt that he was tired. Simple as that. The great Neal Caffrey was tired and wanted to go home… But he couldn't.

A black car went past Neal and stopped a few feet away. Neal knew that car. He knew it too well by now. The young con also knew that the driver was expecting him to get into the car. But Neal didn't. Instead he continued walking and the car drove alongside him. That was a strange sight, but there were no people on the street. And even if there was someone, he wouldn't probably care.

This continued for a few minutes, until the driver rolled down the window.

'How does it feel?' he asked.

Neal turned to look at the driver but didn't stop walking.

'You have no idea.'

'That good, huh?'

'Better than I've ever imagined.'

The car finally stopped. So did Neal.

'Well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, because you won't be seeing sun for a long time.' said the man, getting out of the car and pulling out handcuffs.

'Oh, come on, Peter! I said I was sorry. And this time I did come to you. Give me some credit for that!' exclaimed the teenager.

Peter looked at Neal and automatically put hands on hips.

'If you hadn't made all those stupid decisions from the very beginning, we wouldn't be here right now!' said the agent, still holding the handcuffs. 'First you and Mozzie broke into Hound's mansion and instead of telling me the truth, you decided to play Sherlock Holmes.'

'Peter…'

'What, Neal? When Mozzie found out about the painting, I'm sure he wasn't thrilled with the idea of you breaking into Adler's safe? Or was he?'

'No, but…'

'Of course he wasn't. But do you ever listen? And after Adler caught you, you decided to take the matters into your hands again. I'm just grateful you came to me when you did.'

Saying all that Peter sighed and rubbed his forehead, trying to get rid of the building headache.

'This isn't just a game, Neal. When you came to me this morning… You know what I felt, when you flooded me with all that information?'

'If I were in your shoes, I would be angry…' replied Neal, looking Peter right in the eyes.

'You still don't get it, do you..?' the agent shook his head and opened the door of the car. 'Get in.'

Neal silently complied. When Peter got behind the steering wheel, he didn't move for a few moments, just staring in front of him.

'I'm not gonna lie to you. I didn't know if I could trust you to go on with what we had planned. Giving you all the keys, passwords… Almost full access to the FBI. I know that some agents were informed, but to make everything look believable for Adler… God… I was afraid, Neal. I was scared to death that something would go wrong with either our staff members or Adler. One wrong step and… I'm sure you get the picture.'

Peter looked at Neal who was sitting very still.

'The worst thing… the worst thing was that I wasn't sure you weren't going to run. It must have been tempting. You know what? I wouldn't even blame you for running. That's what you've always wanted. Freedom.'

The agent sighed deeply before going on.

'But you didn't. You didn't run. You didn't go with Adler. Although I know he was trying to get you on his side. You did what was a right thing to do.'

There was silence for a few seconds.

'I'm proud of you.'

Those words were said quietly but confidently.

Neal couldn't believe what Peter just said. After everything Neal put him through… Peter turned to face Neal and their eyes locked for a few seconds. That look spoke volumes. Peter meant every word he said and now Neal knew it.

Before Neal could say anything, Peter returned to his agent mode.

'Now give me back the key-card and my bag. Did everything go as we planned?'

'Yeah, but Mr. Daniels caught me on my way out.' seeing Peter's alarmed face, Neal quickly added. 'He hadn't seen the painting, Peter. But he thinks you're mad at me, because…'

'I am mad at you.' interrupted Peter, starting the car. 'The only reason your ears are still attached to your head is because I don't want Adler to suspect that something is wrong.'

'Hmm... Well, half of the bureau also believes you use me as your typing machine.'

Peter sent Neal a pointed look and focused on the road.

'Aren't we going back to the office?' asked the teenager, as Peter turned to the road, leading to Brooklyn.

'No. Don't worry, tough. You'll be cleaning that camera tomorrow.'

'Argh! Hoped you'd forget about that.'

'No way, buddy. I'm not that old.'

When they got to the house, Peter was about to open the front door with his key but something stopped him. The agent pulled out the gun and motioned for Neal to stay close. He looked inside through the window. Somebody was definitely in the house. Peter knew that El was at work, so it couldn't be her.

Quietly Peter opened the door and stepped into the house. He heard some sounds coming from the kitchen, so the agent didn't waste time and rushed there, raising his gun at the same time.

'I'd recommend you to change the security, Suit.' said Mozzie, not even turning around to face Peter. 'And your dog, no offence Satch…'

'What are you doing here?' grumbled Peter, putting away the gun. This day was getting better and better.

'I was thinking about your offer, Suit. And I came to conclusion that FBI could really use some help. I mean if I could break into the house of, supposedly, one of the best agents' in less than two minutes, what can we expect from the security of your headquarters?'

'Got in, "confiscated" the painting and got out undetected in less than twenty minutes.' declared Neal coming into the kitchen and sitting down at the table.

Mozzie's eyes widened and he looked from Neal to Peter, who was taking his seat beside the teenager. How could Peter react so calmly, when Neal claimed to rob the FBI?!

'Enjoy your glory, 'cause you won't be repeating anything even remotely close to this any time soon… or ever.' said the agent. 'More cameras will be placed; passwords and keys will be changed. And I'll be watching you closely.'

Mozzie's shock grew with every second. The suit knew?

'Neal will explain everything to you, Mozzie.'

'I can't, Peter. I'm busy.' answered the teenager.

'With what?'

'I'm eating.'

'Mozzie has the right to know what's going on. Besides, I caught something between the lines about his want to help us?' said Peter.

'This is a one-time offer, Suit. Don't get used to that.'

After a brief conversation, which Peter held mostly with Mozzie, they discussed every side of the case. Then the trio sat silent for a while. Only the ticking of Peter's watch could be heard.

'So, we have a family of some rich French guy…'

'Baron Beauchamp.' corrected the agent Mozzie.

'Right. Baron Beauchamp. His wife got a fan as a present from the King. The family must have been really proud of that gift to capture it on the painting. It happened in the 16th century.'

Peter loosened his tie a little and a few moments later took it off completely.

'Up until the end of the 19th century both the fan and the painting were in possession of the Baron's descendants. We don't know what happened, but at that time someone made a copy of the painting.'

The agent sighed and looked at Mozzie, who seemed to be in deep thought. However, Neal was still listening, so Peter went on.

'We don't know when, how and why the painting and its copy got to America. The original was hidden under the forgery of one of Van Gogh's paintings, which you helped Adler to steal!' exclaimed Peter, glaring at both Neal and his friend.

'Technically, we stole it for him.' replied the short guy.

'Mozzie, you're not helping!' hissed the teenager.

'What? I'm just clarifying the facts.'

'Enough. You stole the painting and now Adler has it. But he needed the copy as well. We got Keller, when he was trying to steal the copy, which was in possession of…' Peter looked through the file in search for a name. 'Mr. Beauchamp.'

'It must be one of the descendants!' cried out Mozzie, jumping from his seat. 'Yes! Now it makes more sense. The painting is still in the possession of this family, well it has been, until Keller tried to steal it. Beauchamps must have left France and came to America. Of course they took the fan and the painting with them.'

'Calm down, Mozzie. It still doesn't explain why they had a copy and not the original.' stated Peter. This was getting more and more complicated.

Peter's words brought Mozzie back to earth. The short guy was soon sitting again.

'If today's plan worked, Adler had both paintings right now. And all we have is a part of the history. Not a very helpful part.' said the agent.

'We can easily get the rest of the story from Beauchamp, Suit! What are we waiting for?! Let's go!' Mozzie was at his feet again. 'I can't believe you haven't talked to this guy in the first place! He was robbed! Shouldn't you talk to people who were just robbed?'

'We didn't talk with Mr. Beauchamp only because he and his family were gone on vacation. Besides we needed to check out his connections. We couldn't be one hundred percent sure that Beauchamp wasn't involved in criminal activity of some sorts.'

'You suits always complicate things. That man can tell us everything we need to know. This case might have been already closed, if we hadn't been sitting here all this time! And I want you to know, Suit, wasted time cannot be recycled.'

With those words Mozzie made his way to the door.

'And where do you think you're going?' asked Peter, getting slightly irritated.

'To see Beauchamp and help you do your job.'

'Good luck with that. He'll be back only tomorrow. Mozzie, come back here. The best thing you can do to help right now is tell me why would Adler want two completely identical paintings.'

'Because they are not identical.' said Neal, making two pairs of eyes look at him. 'I saw both paintings. Moreover, I, well, forged one of them. I forged the original, to be precise. Moz, you know I wouldn't be able to mess up something as easy. But when today I saw the copy, Keller tried to get, I noticed that something was wrong. The shadows coming from the fan were all wrong… I don't know though. Could be nothing.'

'Or could be something.' replied the agent, just as the doorbell rang.

Mozzie, who was still on his feet, opened the door.

'Great! Another suit! Just what I needed.' said the short guy when Jones walked in with a couple of boxes. 'And a Lady suit! How nice!' again exclaimed Mozzie, looking at Diana.

'The painting was delivered to Adler. And we still have our eyes on the messenger, if you want to take that guy down, Boss.' said Diana, ignoring Mozzie and following Jones.

'No, no yet. We have a bigger fish to catch, so we can't let Adler even consider the fact that we are on his trail. But I'd rather you keep him on the radar.' replied Peter. 'We might also have something on those paintings. Neal says they are not completely the same. Jones, do you have the photos of the painting we got from Keller?'

'Yep. I also retrieved Neal's forgery.'

'Good. We need to compare them and…'

Agent Burke was interrupted when his phone started ringing.

'Hey, hon.' the agent relaxed immediately when he heard his wife's voice. It didn't matter if life was giving him sour lemons instead of sweet apples, as long as El was with him.

The next second everybody could practically see how tension began filling the room. Peter kept quiet for a few moments even after Elizabeth finished talking. Nobody had the nerve to ask Peter if everything was alright, when the agent slowly stood up and took his jacket. Still holding the phone in his hand, he started searching for the keys.

'Tell me the address.' was all that Peter could manage and after hearing what he inquired, added as softly as he could. 'I'll be there soon, hon. Don't worry.'

As soon as he ended the call, Peter dropped the phone on the table and fell back on his chair.

'What have I done to deserve such a…' the agent stopped himself and took a deep breath to regain self-control.

'El is in the hospital.' he said, noticing all the questioning looks.

After that Peter didn't hear any questions. He put on his jacket and made his way to the door.

'Peter, I'll come with you!' said Neal, following the agent.

'No. I need you to stay here and have a look at those paintings.' replied Peter firmly.

'I'll drive, Suit.' said Mozzie, taking the keys from Peter's hand and marching towards the door. 'Neal, do as you were told, for once.'

The teenager stood staring, while Peter and Mozzie got into the car and left.

'Wow! The little guy surely knows how to be in control.' murmured Jones and taking some things out of the box, called Neal to start their investigation.

* * *

When Mozzie abruptly hit the brakes, stopping only a few inches away from the car in front of them, Peter lost the last drops of control.

'Are you trying to kill us?!'

Mozzie didn't even dignify that exclamation with an answer. The lights turned to green and the conman, almost reaching the top speed, started drifting between the cars.

'What the hell, Mozzie? You're breaking every…'

'Could you forget about your stupid rules for a couple of hours?! Suit, your wife…'

'Shut up and drive already!'

For a few minutes there was silence. Mozzie was glad that he decided to drive. Suit was clearly stressed.

Peter was stressed. Normally he wouldn't shout, but that day… Forget that day! Those few months were pure torture. Caffrey, Keller, Adler… And now this short guy! Ok, Mozzie hasn't done anything that bad… yet. But Caffrey! Yes, Neal was the main "stress factor". Peter tried not to bring work home. But then he made the biggest mistake. First, he brought Caffrey's case file and then Caffrey himself… Somehow Peter didn't believe his own thoughts. He had long ago stopped thinking about Neal as just another criminal. And Neal wasn't a mistake. Neal was trouble, lots of trouble. But never a mistake! Ever since he appeared in their lives, El… Oh, God! El!

'Mozzie! Why aren't we going anywhere?'

Then Peter looked around. A traffic jam. Just what he needed!

'I have an idea, Suit. But I'm not sure you're gonna like it.'

'I don't care! Do what you have to do. As long as I don't see anything, I don't know anything. I can even close my eyes. Just take me to my wife, Haversham!'

'Don't command if you want a good result.' said Mozzie, nevertheless turning the car and driving into a dark quiet street, which was so narrow, that it couldn't even be called a street.

'You should write a poem.' grumbled Peter. 'What are you doing? Where are we?'

They passed the only street lamp that was working. If it wasn't for the headlights they would be driving in complete darkness.

'I'm taking a shortcut. And you said something about closing your eyes.'

Peter wanted to reply but decided that it would be better to stay quiet. After all, Mozzie was only trying to help.

'Mozzie…'

'It's fine, Peter. I understand.'

After a few minutes the car, much to Peter's surprise and delight, was parking in front of the hospital.

How they got to the place they were both now standing, neither Mozzie, nor Peter did notice. And they didn't care. A doctor walked up to them.

'Are you here to see…' his eyes fell on the sheet of paper in his hands. 'Mrs. Elizabeth Burke?'

'Yes.' came the reply from both men.

'And who, exactly, are you?'

'We are…' started Mozzie.

'We are husband.' said Peter, interrupting Mozzie.

The doctor looked with clear interest at the strange couple and deciding that he didn't even want to know, let them into the room.

Peter's legs moved as if they were made from wood. Mozzie on the other hand, was already standing near Elizabeth. When the agent walked in and closed the door, his wife smiled at him.

'Peter, I told you not to worry. Everything is fine.' said El, while Peter made his way to her.

'El, no matter what it is, we're going to get through it together. Don't worry. Don't panic. We are…'

'…going to have a baby.'

Peter felt relief. El was alright. And then her words were finally processed in his head. The agent looked in front of him and saw nothing. His subconscious registered Mozzie's joyful cries and congratulations, but Peter himself was only gulping for air. Was he thinking about something? No. All he could do was smile with a stupid goofy smile.

Mozzie wasn't even half-way through his list of names which "they should really take into consideration", when Elizabeth silently pointed to her husband, who seemed to need help. Mozzie sighed and helped the agent to sit down next to El.

Soon they were leaving the hospital. Mozzie delicately held El's hand, not letting her go at any times. He was saying something very quietly and his words made Elizabeth smile. Everyone who saw them, thought what a caring husband that woman had. At the same time, Peter received another kind of attention. People around were whispering, asking each other who was that strange man and why was he following that couple. But Peter didn't care. At that moment of happiness he couldn't think about others. He was even ready to close his eyes and fall into the warm, blanket-like hug, Mozzie was now giving Elizabeth…

* * *

Neal stared at Peter and Elizabeth. When his eyes began to tear up, he blinked a couple of times and continued starring. The same silly smile, that Peter had less than an hour ago, made its appearance on Neal's face.

The agent knew exactly what was going on, as he himself was in such a state. So before Neal could collapse, he helped the boy to sit on the coffee table.

Neal had no idea how much time passed, when he was finally able to speak.

'Guys, I'm so happy for you!' he said.

And that was the plain truth. Neal was happy. At least that day.

* * *

The next morning everybody was in good spirits. The only thing Peter regretted was that he couldn't spend that sunny day with his wife. But the case they were working on was very important. Neal's safety and freedom was on the line.

Peter's Taurus got stuck yet in another traffic jam, but the agent seemed not to be bothered by it. He was humming a cheerful tune and Neal didn't want to interrupt him. But he couldn't just sit there, right?

'Peter?'

'Yeah, Buddy?'

'Um… I just wanted to tell you… You're going to be a great father.'

Peter stopped his humming and looked at the boy, who was sitting beside him.

'Do you mean to tell me that I'm not a great Dad now?' asked the agent, returning his focus back on the road, when the cars started moving. 'You're alive and well, doesn't it make me the coolest dad ever?'

'Yeah, keep thinking that.' Neal started laughing and Peter joined him.

'But, seriously, Peter. What's gonna happen to me?' asked Neal quietly, after both of them calmed down a bit.

Peter sighed and dropped the smile. Neal's heart sank at that.

'We've been discussing this with El, but still haven't come to an agreement… I was thinking about all boys private school.' Peter's voice was dead serious.

'WHAT?!'

'But I guess it won't be an option. Either way, you're going to finish school, get a master's degree, study abroad…'

'And then what, Peter? Publish a book?' asked the teenager sarcastically.

'Why not? Don't you want to be the new Hemingway?' Peter smiled.

'Looks like you've planned out my whole life.'

'Of course. More than that, like every self-respecting parent I want you to follow this plan through.'

'What if I decide to become an architect?' asked Neal, only to tease the cheerful agent.

'Hm. In that case, I'll expect you to write a book about architecture.' replied Peter. 'But I still think that my plan is better.'

'Psychologists say that it's the first typical mistake most of the parents do.'

'Planning? Maybe so, but it's becoming a tradition in a lot of families. And I'm gonna stick up to it.

'Peter, I don't want to disappoint you, but I kinda want to make my own decisions.'

'I think you've made enough decisions on your own. Now it's my turn. All parents, Neal, want their children to be happy and not to repeat their own mistakes. Thant's why we do this. I want you to be a good example to your little brother or sister. Moreover, I have some dreams that never had a chance to come true. But now I have you and…'

'And you want to see me realize those dreams.' interrupted Neal. 'I'm never gonna do anything like that to my kids.'

'I told my dad the exact same words, buddy.' answered Peter and started laughing again.

With that, they got to the Bureau. Mozzie was waiting for them outside. And although it took some time to convince the guru of the conspiracy theories to get inside, sooner than expected all three of them were looking at the photos of the paintings.

'Peter, I think I know what's up with the shadows!' cried out Neal.

Diana and Jones found the perfect moment to walk into Peter's office.

'Boss, we talked with Beauchamp. We know what we are looking for.'

'And we know where to start.' replied the teenager.


	15. You only live once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally made it! This is the final chapter of "Fake People". I really hope that it will come up to your expectations! Before we begin, I would like to thank each and every one for the support and attention!  
> I still don't own White Collar.

The moment the painting was delivered to Adler, he began his work. This was one of the most important parts of his plan and that is why Vincent decided to take care of it himself. Although he was never afraid of the "dirty" work, Adler usually preferred it to be done by somebody else. After all, two head are always better than one, and a team has better chances at winning the main prize than a single person. Adler knew that in certain cases, this "single person" could bring a lot of unnecessary problems. And that is why the team needed a wise leader, who would be able to see the whole battle field and give the right orders. However, the last minutes of the battle are the hardest and the team needs the leader to take the matters into his own hands and lead the way. The most important thing you need to do by yourself, if you want them to be done right.

That is why Vincent locked the door of the laboratory, and rolling up the sleeves of his pebble grey shirt sat down at the table. After comparing two paintings and noticing some insufficient, in his opinion, differences, Adler was pushed to use the most reliable source – science. The perfect gentleman, as Adler thought about himself, spent most of the night trying to reveal the invisible ink, he was sure was used on the copy. There were hundreds of methods to hide the information from the curious eyes, and the amount of the ways to reveal that information wasn't smaller. This could take days. Adler didn't have such time, which meant he was forced to play against the clock with no right for mistakes.

The main question Adler was facing was what was used as ink. It could be anything: from dangerous chemicals to simple milk. After seven hours of continuous work, the question was still on the table.

Vincent put off the fire of the candle with which he was warming up the painting and stood up, turning his head in different directions to ease the pain in his neck that started escalating. Adler huffed in frustration. Time was running out but there was still no progress. Maybe he should have called somebody for help.

With those thoughts Adler began walking up and down the long well-lighted room. He stopped near one of the tables, on which was standing a brand new microscope. Adler's long fingers touched the smooth surface of the microscope and stayed there for a while, enjoying the coolness of the metal. But when the man was ready to go back to work, his eyes spotted a small bottle with bright blue powder inside. He took the bottle and glanced at the label, which he glued to the bottle not that long ago. Sulfate of copper… Yes! Of course! It must have been the solute of sulfate of copper that had been used as the ink!

In a matter of seconds, Adler was back at his working space. If his theory was proven to be right, the ammonium chloride would do the trick and Vincent would be able to see whatever it was hidden.

Carefully, not to ruin the painting, Adler let a few drops of the colourless liquid fall. In a blink of an eye, as if a fairy Godmother waved her wand, azure blue lines and letters appeared right on the surface of the painting. A smile spread across Adler's face, as he covered the whole painting with ammonium chloride and watched as the map appeared in front of him. Not taking his eyes away from the discovery, Vincent dialed a number.

'I need you to rent me an office.'

* * *

Peter looked up when Diana and Jones walked into his office.

'Boss, we talked with Beauchamp, we know what we are looking for.'

The special agent in charge was about to reply but Neal didn't give him that chance.

'And we know where to start.'

'We do?' asked Mozzie and Peter in unison.

'That was creepy. And yes, I think I figured it out. You see, there are a lot of different trinkets on the fan.' said Neal standing up and laying the photo of the copy on the table. 'There is also this box…' continued the teenager, pointing at the small silver box, incrusted with gems.

'The lady must have kept smelling salts there.' added Mozzie, also standing up and leaning on the desk.

'It doesn't matter, Moz. What matters is the shadow falling from this box doesn't look like it should.'

'The copy wasn't done by a professional artist. Maybe it was just a mistake.' said Jones.

'I thought so too. But look closely. The shadow is forming the shape that looks like a building. A tall tower. I assume it's a skyscraper. And since the copy was done at the end of the 18th or beginning of the 19th century…'

'There are hundreds of skyscrapers only in America!' exclaimed Mozzie, who was looking at the photo with a magnifying glass.

'Well, we can narrow down the search those which were built in the early 1900s. But I agree with Mozzie on this. The "skyscraper boom" was at that time.' answered Peter, taking the magnifying glass from Mozzie. 'Diana, what have Beauchamp told you?'

'A few years before the First World War started, their family was having major problems. That's why great grandfather of Beauchamp Junior, whom we had a pleasure of meeting today, decided to try his luck and move to America in hopes for better life. At first, their situation got even worse, as the family practically didn't have any money. Beauchamp began selling family relics. The only two thigs he refused to touch were the fan and the painting. After a couple of years of struggling, Beauchamp finally found a good job and even started thinking about opening his own business. However, he didn't have enough money, so it was decided to sell the painting.' began the story Diana, but was interrupted by Mozzie, who at that time was sitting with his eyes closed.

'That is when he created the copy. I can't believe I hadn't thought it was Beauchamp who painted that copy. Let me save the remains of my pride and offer my theory. Beauchamp had hidden the fan, and the copy he painted is supposed to lead us to it.'

'Our short guy is right.' nodded Jones. 'And looking at that fan I understand Beauchamp's actions. The box with the smelling salts alone must cost a fortune, not to mention the fan itself. Apparently, he wanted to keep the members of his family from selling the priced possession.'

'So for Beauchamp it wasn't all about the money?' asked Neal. 'He wanted to keep the fan in remembrance of the family's prosperous times.'

'You're so naïve, my young friend. For people like Beauchamp it's always about the money. Probably just wanted to wait until the price got higher and then sell it at the auction.' replied Mozzie.

'We also think there is more to this story, but for now it's all we've got.' said Diana.

'I don't care what possessed Beauchamp to hide the fan.' replied Peter, looking through the case file. 'Adler wants to get it, so it's our chance to get him red-handed… Jones, did Beauchamp open his own business?'

'Yep. Some sort of a souvenir shop. But during the years of the Great Depression he lost it.'

'Where was that shop?' asked Peter.

'That is one detail we don't know.'

'We need to contact Beauchamp Junior again. Neal, Mozzie, you two are staying here. Just sit and breathe. We'll be right back.' ordered Agent Burke and left the office with Jones and Diana in tow.

A couple of awkward minutes were spent in silence, during which Mozzie was looking at Neal, whose eyes were glued to the floor.

'Suit is a bad influence.' declared Mozzie, finally receiving eye contact from his friend. 'You were never a sort of person, who needed to talk about his feelings.'

'Peter told me he was proud of me. Proud, because I hadn't run off with Adler. But I was thinking about that, Moz. I doubted my decision. I doubted Peter… And then he just…' the young con stammered on his own words.

'Don't do this, Neal. Don't feel guilty. We are who we are and there is no way to change that. It's the right thing to do, you know. To think about your needs. I understand that you're getting attached to the Suit and I see how much you enjoy this whole "family" thing. But take into consideration "the new baby" factor. Everything is about to change and you, my friend, have to do what's best for you. It's not selfish. It's the right thing to do.'

There was a brief pause, while Mozzie was taking a deep breath.

'I was there with them, Neal. I saw Peter's eyes when El told him about the baby. I felt like I was enchanted, so I can't even start to imagine what hurricane of joy was carrying them away at that moment. I'm not trying to persuade you their feelings for you will change. The circumstances are about to change but I'm sure Suit and his wife will remain true to themselves. So should you, Neal. Ray Bradbury wasn't a man whose advice could be easily ignored. So, be what you are, bury what you are not.'

Thoughts of various shapes and sizes flooded Neal's head. His common sense was getting beaten up by his own emotions. Really, when did he begin turning into a sensitive princess?

Just when Neal opened his mouth to answer, Peter barged into the office, stealing every chance on continuing the conversation.

'It's the Woolworth Building. Beauchamp was working at the gift shop there.' said the agent, gathering some papers and walking back to the door.

Neal and Mozzie shared a look and followed Peter.

'Boss, Adler rented an office this morning.' reported Diana, while Jones was gathering the team and making phone calls.

'Need I ask the location?'

'The Woolworth Building.' replied Berrigan with a smile, which only confirmed Neal's guess, that FBI agents weren't just fulfilling their duty before the face of the government. Just like Neal was captured by the thrill of pulling a con, the agents were fueled by the opportunity of preventing that con.

'Adler is in for a bit surprise,' said Mozzie and took a few steps towards the elevators, only to be caught by Peter.

'And where exactly are your short legs taking you?' asked the agent, not letting Mozzie's shirt collar go.

'The place my big brain commands them to go. Come on, Suit. You're only wasting your time. I'm going with you, whether you want it or not.'

For a few seconds Peter and Mozzie were staring at each other, as if they were having a silent argument. An argument, which Mozzie seemed to be winning.

'Fine. But you're to stay in the van during the whole operation. As for you,' Peter turned to face Neal.

'Peter, I have every right to go…'

'I don't want to hear it. This can be dangerous. This IS dangerous.' said agent Burke firmly, if not sharply.

'Go get that bastard, Peter.' said Hughes, coming down from his office. 'I'll look after your boy.'

'Thanks, Hughes.' replied Burke.

'Peter, this is…' started the teenager but was interrupted by Reece.

'Go to my office, Caffrey.'

'But…'

'A piece of advice, Neal. Don't argue with your superiors.' said Peter, earning a furious glare from his young charge. But the agent was an expert on sending certain looks himself, so soon Neal was scuffling annoyingly in the direction of Hughes' office.

Neal knew that life wasn't always fair, but his was just too much. How could Peter be so cruel? And the worst thing was that Agent Burke wasn't completely honest. If he didn't want Neal there, why hadn't he said so in the first place? Why hide your true intentions under the mask of concern? You want to play masquerade?! I'll show you what I've got.

A small voice inside Neal's head was telling him how unreasonable he was acting, but the young con brushed it off. His conscious joined the annoying voice and was pleading Neal to stop being so stupid. But anger along with irritation won the battle and a plan was already forming.

Hughes got back to his office and found Neal, who was ready to throw a major teenage-styled tantrum not a mere five minutes ago, quietly drawing. Maybe it won't be that hard? The head of the division locked the door, just in case, and got back to work. He had a lot of things to worry about, without adding to that upset mini-criminals. Neal was aware his escape plan was far from perfect, but he had limited options at that moment. After making sure Hughes was engrossed in work, Neal threw his pen, so it landed right beside the door. The teenager stood up and took the pen from the floor. For a few seconds he pretended to look down at the agents from the glass-walled office, while in fact he was just picking the lock. Neal turned around and saw Hughes typing on his computer. Maybe he can run right now? No, no, no. Too risky. Hughes looks like he's ready to jump…

Neal got back to his seat and waited. How much time passed the boy had no idea but as soon as Hughes was really caught up in work, Neal stood up and darted out of the office. Yep, his genius plan was to simply make a run for it when the time seemed right. And that was exactly what he did. Neal heard Hughes' voice booming somewhere behind him, but he was already getting into the elevator and pressing the button to go to the ground floor.

Finally! The sweet sound of the elevator doors opening. The breeze of something not even remotely close to fresh air, but still so much better than the stuffy elevator's room.

'Hey there, Neal!'

'Oh, Mr. Daniels! Hi. I'm on my way to get some coffee. Our coffee-maker was found dead this morning.'

The guard wanted to ask something, but the sounds from his walkie-talkie started coming. Neal took his chance and ran out of the door with Mr. Daniels stepping on his heels. Apparently the guard got orders from Hughes to stop the young delinquent. Luck was on Neal's side that day and he swiftly got into the cab.

* * *

The car was stopped by a traffic light turning red. Neal closed his eyes. The past few months felt like a ride on a crazy roller-coaster. As summer was taking its first shaky steps, Neal was on the top of the world back then. He had everything he ever wanted, almost everything: friends, a lovely girlfriend, exciting "job"… And then Peter brought him to the world, he was trying to avoid. A world of fake people, where each and every one was telling lies on a daily basis, just because they had to meet standards or save their high positions. Neal didn't think people he was "working" with were saints, but at least they weren't pretending to be the "good guys".

While Neal was forced to live with Burkes, he was desperately trying to get back on his cloud nine, back to the place he belonged. Seemed like time decided to play a cruel prank on Neal and at first it was moving with a speed of an old snail. The previous five days though, everything was happening too fast. Bahnhof's safe, paintings, Adler, Peter's family… Family… Maybe it was the missing link to his happiness?

But how could Neal know what he wanted if everything kept changing every other second? Less than 24 hours ago Peter let him break into the headquarters of the FBI and now he wouldn't even let him tag along to see Adler arrested. A few hours ago Peter was lovingly planning Neal's life, but now he was ordering Neal around like he didn't care about him or his feelings anymore…

The second Neal got out of the cab, it disappeared into the labyrinth, formed by New York City's roads and avenues. Neal didn't even have time to look around, as the first thing he knew a dozen of FBI agents were storming into the building. Without any second thoughts, Neal followed them.

* * *

'FBI! Drop your weapons! Hands in the air!'

Slowly, without making any fuss or abrupt movements, Adler turned around, raising his hands, in one of which there was a scarlet red fan.

'Gentlemen, please, no need to shout. Before any unnecessary questions arise, let me explain. I rent an office and my men found this,' Adler waved the fan, 'in the wall. You know, sometimes extraordinary things can be found during the reconstruction.'

'The item in your hands is the private property of one of our citizens. We would like you to follow us to the Bureau for questioning.'

'Oh, this thing is so important?! Who could have guessed. Well, I'm more than happy to help the investigation, agent… I'm sorry, what was your name again?' asked Vincent sweetly smiling and eyeing the guns, which were aiming at him.

'Jones.'

'Ah! Agent Jones. Yes, yes. When should we go?'

'Now would be a good time.' stated Peter, taking a few steps towards Adler. 'Hand me the fan.'

Adler turned away from the agents and instantly heard their fingers getting ready to pull the triggers.

'Would you mind lowering your guns? You make me nervous.' said Adler, turning with his hands in the air. "The fan was in the case, when we found it. Figured you'd appreciate me putting it back.'

Saying that, Adler demonstratively put the fan into its case and handed it to agent Burke.

Peter glanced at the hole in the wall, right behind Adler. Inside the wall there was some kind of a built-in safe. Beauchamp Senior really must have thought it all through.

Everybody left the office, with the exception of a few FBI agents, who stayed in order to investigate further.

If anybody saw Adler, they would probably think he was a hero. He was walking confidently, holding his head high and treating the agents as if they were his personal bodyguards.

Peter was watching Adler carefully. Just a few more meters and they will be out of the building…

That moment Peter saw familiar features and a mope of curly brown hair. God, please, don't let it be…

Adler's eyes caught the same image, only a split second earlier. Now was the time to take advantage of the situation.

* * *

When Neal walked into the Woolworth Building, he was immediately stopped by security guards. While Peter and his team confronted Adler, Neal was downstairs, arguing with the guards. His arguments were running out and by the time the elevator doors opened, announcing the arrival of some of the agents and Vincent, Neal was ready to give up.

What happened next and more importantly how did it happen, Neal hadn't noticed. The only thing he felt was someone's iron grip on the collar of his shirt.

Faces, voices and a dull pain in the neck… The sophisticated surrounding of the building now reminded pictures from a kaleidoscope.

Neal closed his eyes to stop the spinning. The images stopped, which allowed Neal to focus on the rest of his body. The teenager felt his legs wobbling, as if they were made of jelly. The only thing that was stopping him from collapsing on the floor was a snake-like hand, holding him around the neck, ready to finish its job any moment. The grip tightened and Neal began choking slightly. He opened his eyes, not being able to ignore cold metal, held to his temple.

The young con was sure there were agents all around, but Neal's scared and confused eyes were focused on Peter's cold stare. A second more, and a sound of a gunshot echoed through the building. That moment Neal could swear his peripheral vision caught a sight of a bullet, flying a few inches away from his own head.

The grip loosened and Neal let himself sink to the floor, not taking his eyes off of Peter, who was lowering the gun with emotionless face, like it was made from cold marble.

'AAAH! Damn it! My arm!' Adler was shouting.

Neal kept staring at Peter, but soon he heard a familiar voice and friendly arms leading him away.

* * *

The paramedics arrived too soon for Peter's liking. That bastard deserved to be in pain. Adler won't get away with it. Peter will be pressing charges for attempted murder of a minor.

As if Adler heard Peter's thoughts, he began talking, while waiting for the doctors to bandage his shoulder.

'It was self-defense. That boy of yours looks like the guy, who tried to rob me last Thursday. By the way, I still have his fingerprints on my safe. Maybe you can run a couple of tests. It will help you catch one more criminal.'

Peter clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth, and looked furiously at Adler, who was smirking. The agent knew exactly whose prints were on that safe! Stopping himself from an unwanted outburst, Peter silently walked away from Adler and went to the van, where Mozzie was talking with Neal.

'You. I told you not to come here.' said Peter in controlled, dangerously low whisper, looking Neal straight in the eyes. 'Not only did you put your life in danger, but all of those agents' lives were at stake. And now I have to drop charges, because Adler can easily rat you out! Then your sorry ass will be in jail. And there will be nothing I can do!'

Agent Burke's voice was rising with every word, and by the end of his little speech he was screaming at the top of his lungs.

'Suit, I think you need to calm…'

'Stay the hell out of it, Mozzie!' barked Peter, making the short guy to take a few steps back. 'You'd better pray that we will be able to get Adler on something, Caffrey. Otherwise, I don't want to be in your shoes.'

With that Peter turned around and abruptly left to speak with his team.

* * *

Neal was standing outside the interrogation room, watching Adler spinning the web of lies. But his story was thought out perfectly. As soon as Adler finished saying he was just an apprising businessman, who managed to rent an office at Woolworth Building, a document was laid in front of Peter by Adler's lawyer. The document proved that Vincent Adler rent the said office and was granted permission to have a reconstruction unit make necessary adjustments and improvements. And this is exactly how the fan was found. Moreover, Adler was more than happy to give the finding to the FBI, as it is an honour to him, an honest citizen of the United States, to help the federal investigation. The documents were all in order, not a thing to be questioned.

Agent Burke was losing patience, but not hope. Adler was well prepared, and so was Peter. The agent still had some cards up in his sleeve.

'Mr. Adler, before you leave, I would like to ask you a couple of questions.'

Adler, who was in the process of standing up, looked at his lawyer and getting a small nod in reply, slowly got back to his seat.

'Of course, agent Burke. If it helps you in any way, I'll give the information you're seeking. Even if you catch only a minor offender because of those facts, I'll be so honoured.

Vincent smiled, narrowing his a little, but still looking as Noble Prize winner. Getting an Academy Award, Gammy or any other award wouldn't make Adler more satisfied than now. Having seen the agent's face, when he mentioned "the minor offender", Adler knew he touched the soft spot. Burke really cared about that puppy of his.

"'Does the name of Matthew Keller tell you anything?' asked Peter, ignoring Vincent's smirk.

'I'm not able to recall… Should his name tell me anything?' answered Adler, knowing well that answering somebody's questions with questions is the easiest way to annoy them.

'Not so long ago we got him on stealing the painting…' started Peter, giving Adler a photo of Keller, to "refresh the memory". 'And what is particularly interesting is that the owner of the painting is the same person to whom belongs the fan, you found.'

'I don't see how I am supposed to know any of that. And I still don't recognize the man.' replied Adler, sliding the photo across the table.

'Are you sure about that? Because you were seen with Keller in a bar, a few days before the robbery. And you still want to tell me you don't know this man? I must warn you, Mr. Adler, giving the false statement…'

'I was drunk, all right!' suddenly Adler's voice was not as calm.

'You have no idea how hard it is… Trying to raise a teenage daughter all by yourself. We had an argument, she slammed the door right into my face… My little girl… Maybe I'm not the father of the year, but who are you to judge me?' Adler closed his eyes for a few moments to calm down and only after that went on. 'I went to the bar. Got drunk. I have no idea who I met there or what I was saying. At about 2 a.m. I called a cab and got home. You can check that if you want.'

'Mr. Adler, where were you two days after that?'

'Los Angeles. Took my daughter there. You know, to spend some quality time with her.' answered Adler. 'Now, unless you have some real evidence, I think I'll head home. Everything you have is circumstantial; therefore, you can't hold me any longer.'

With that Adler got up and walked to the door, followed by his lawyer.

'Life can be a bitch, Agent Burke. Don't take it personally.'

No later than Vincent left the FBI building, Peter had used all the curse words he knew and even made up some new ones along the way. Peter, being one of the most composed men, was one step away from breaking the unbreakable glass of the interrogation room. The agitated state, in which the agent found himself, was completely understandable. How would you feel, if crime after crime was completed right in front of you, and the man responsible got away with it?! Not evidence! Damned rules!

Peter finally walked out of the room and saw Neal, talking with Jones and Diana. Apparently, Clinton said something funny and Neal started chuckling softly, which solved to annoy Peter more than ever. Images of Adler holding a gun to his kid's head rushed through Peter's mind. That moment Peter couldn't allow himself to lose concentration and give in to panic, but now the agent felt all of the emotions stuck him at the same second. Anger, irritation, disappointment, fear… It was becoming hard to breathe and uneven short breaths were the only thing that kept Peter from collapsing to the floor. His hands were trembling and clenching them into tight fists didn't help a bit. Thousands of what ifs and what could have happened flooded the man's conscious. He wasn't thinking any more, when he marched towards the teenager and grabbed his arm, ignoring Clinton and Diana's presence.

"Working for Adler may have been a mistake, but leaving the office, when I specifically told you not to, was a God damned choice, Caffrey!'

For the first time people heard Peter Burke actually shouting. As it turned out a little display in front of the Woolworth Building was chirping of a sweet bird, compared to what was going on now.

Mozzie, who was working upstairs with Anthony, came running towards the interrogation room, holding a piece of paper.

'Suit, you need to see this!'

Ignoring the short guy, Peter stepped closer to Neal, not releasing his grip.

'Adler's gun was loaded! If he chose to pull a trigger, the bullet would have flown right through your stupid head! And you know what?! He would be considered a hero for taking down a dangerous criminal, as your fingerprints are all over his safe!'

'Suit, step aside and calm down. Don't do anything you'll regret.' tried to reason Mozzie. 'Besides, there's something you really need to see.'

Mozzie's words fell on deaf ears, and Peter continued roaring into Neal's face.

'But you are not a criminal, Neal! No. You're just a petty little thief, who got a false and STUPID idea of being Al Capone! Well, sorry to disappoint but you're not! Neither are you an Almighty Bruce or an invincible Hulk! When you know you can't do anything useful, stay the hell out of it!'

'Boss, he didn't think…'

'That's the story of his life, Diana. He never thinks. God gave you a head, use it sometimes!'

The last phrase was accompanied with a slap to the back of Neal's head. It wasn't that hard, but it hurt the teenager's pride more than anything. The most serious and dangerous injuries are not always the physical ones. If you want to kill a person, crash his spirit…

Neal looked Peter in the eyes for the first time. Before anyone could stop him, he left the now quiet hall.

* * *

Some time later, Neal was wandering through the streets of the Big Apple. It was getting closer to six o'clock in the evening, but the sun was still burning the citizens with its rays. The heat was exhausting and it seemed like the pace of the never sleeping city slowed down.

Neal stopped at the sight of the children's playground and looked at the kids and their parents. A small smile, despite his awful mood found its way on Neal's face. Letting the friendly environment talk him into staying, the teenager sat down at the bench.

It felt like somehow he got to another planet or even universe. The air was still trembling under the blazing sun, but people here didn't notice any of it. Neal closed his eyes and listened. The teenager was used to relying on his eyes most of the time and never actually understood how it was possible to truly feel something without seeing it…

At first, all he could hear was a mixture of voices. Nevertheless, as the clock counted down the seconds that would never come back, Neal was able to tell apart hundreds of sounds.

A joyful laughter of a child being taken by an old squeaking swing up to the skies, and a few moments later a low voice of a man, telling his kid to hold tighter. The sounds of small feet running past Neal, followed by a soft cry… The clicking of heels and a sweet smell of flowery perfume went in the same direction. Loving arms helping a small fragile girl to get up and warning to be careful next time. No more than a minute later, the sounds of the small feet running again, with promises from their owner "to be good".

'Timmy, it's time to go home!'

'Five more minutes, Mommy!' replied a boy's voice from the distance.

Mommy… Neal remembered his Mommy. She had the softest skin and Neal enjoyed when she scooped his face into her loving arms and squeezed his cheeks. At that time Neal was always telling her he was grown boy and didn't need that kind of "babying", but she continued doing it anyway. How much Neal would have given away if he had only had a chance to feel those arms again, to see that smile…

The teenager closed his eyes a little tighter, in hopes of seeing his mother at least through the memories. And there she was, standing in their small kitchen, making pancakes. For a moment it was all real. A big wooden table, a rich smell of cinnamon…

Images from Neal's childhood were getting mixed up with memories of the last few months. Neal hadn't realized it, but Elizabeth came really close to healing the wound that the death of Neal's mother had caused. But now everything has changed. Why would that that wonderful woman need a stray, when she is about to have her own child?! The only person who truly loved Neal was his dear mother. And she was gone. Forever.

Neal remembered Charles. He was nothing but a cruel sadist. The pictures of that man immediately flooded Neal's mind and once again he was a scared 7-year-old boy, witnessing yet another heated argument. The man was yelling at the top of his lungs, his hands in fists. Then he hit her. He hit Neal's mother.

Neal struggled to get away, but he was hostage of his own memories. The events of the last hours were making everything worth.

Charles turned around. But it wasn't Charles anymore. It was Peter, the man Neal trusted, the man Neal believed and respected.

A sudden sound of a ball hitting the bench got Neal free from hell, his own mind created. The teenager picked the ball up from the ground and handed it over to a boy, who quickly ran back to his friends.

Neal's thoughts drifted back to Peter. All Neal wanted to do was to help the investigation. He wanted Peter to be proud of him. Apparently, Agent Burke never regarded him more than "a petty little thief". No matter what Neal did Agent Burke would always see him as a nuisance and a pain in the well-known place!

Neal started opening up to Pet… BURKE. The teenager thought the older man cared… No, Neal was a fool. Burke was right. Neal was the only one to blame. If it wasn't for his own stupidity he wouldn't be sitting here right now.

If you don't trust anyone, they can't let you down…

Deep inside Neal wanted to trust Peter, to trust El… He wanted to believe that they truly cared. And maybe they did care earlier, but not now. Now they were going to be real parents.

A painful thought crawled into Neal's head. Foster kids can never be loved as your own. Neal was nobody's child…

Nevertheless, there was still a person Neal loved and hoped she loved him just as much. Kate.

* * *

The door opened and as Neal saw Kate, his heart swelled with joy. The girl motioned to come in and soon they were sitting in her room.

'Where have you been, Caffrey? You promised to call as soon as you got back. Guess what?! I've been waiting, calling myself, but never got a hold of you!'

'There were things, needing to be taken care of, Kate.'

'Those things were more important than me?'

'Of course not, sweetie pie…'

'Don't call me that.' replied Kate, slapping him slightly on the shoulder. 'Go on.'

'Katie, I've been thinking a lot…'

'You can think?'

Not noticing the biting comment, the boy continued.

'I don't have anything to hold me here, except for you. I can get us some money and we…'

'Are you asking me to run away with you?' asked Kate, not surprised by the idea, but with a person who proposed that.

'Yeah… I know you have a family and Johnny wouldn't be happy if…'

'What are you talking about, Neal? Who cares what Johnny thinks?!'

'Well, he's your father, isn't he?' asked Neal.

Kate looked amused and suddenly started giggling. Seconds later that turned into a real laughing fit.

'What?! Johnny…' Kate stopped herself, as she heard the front door opening and footsteps, which indicated somebody coming up the stairs.

'Neal, get under the bed. Now!' she whispered in a hurry.

No later than Neal was in his hiding place, the knock on the door was heard.

'Kate? I need to speak with you.'

Neal's heart stopped for a moment, at least that what it felt like. This voice he could never confuse with anything else. What was Adler doing here?

'Come in, Daddy.' came Kate's reply.

Daddy?! How is that possible? Neal held his breath, watching as Adler's polished shoes stopped a few inches away from the bed.

'I need you to pack all of your things. We're moving.'

'Where?'

'Does it matter?' Adler's voice was a bit sharp, but the next sentence was said much softer. 'I'm sorry, princess. I had a rough day… Burke and his puppy… I haven't settled all the things yet, but we're going somewhere warm. Beach, ocean, tropical breeze… You'll like it.'

'Do I have to go?'

'Unless you have some better plans.'

Kate seemed to consider everything for a couple of minutes before answering.

'No, Daddy. I'll do with you.'

Kissing his daughter and announcing they would be leaving the next day, Adler left the room, allowing Neal to crawl from under the bed.

'Adler is your father? Why didn't you tell me? You've been lying to me!' exclaimed Neal, feeling hurt and betrayed more than ever.

'You just assumed Johnny was my dad and I never corrected you.' replied Kate, looking through her wardrobe. 'If you paid a little more attention, instead of pretending you know and understand every single thing without even looking at it, you would have guessed that Johnny is my Dad's assistant and sometimes drives me around, in order to please Daddy.'

Kate took out some dresses and threw them on the bed.

'Oh! I need to call Hannah!'

The girl started dialing a number, before remembering about Neal.

'Neal, I think you should go. Use the window, will you? I don't want Daddy to see you… Hey, Hannah! You'll never guess what I've just found!' looking up at Neal, Kate closed the phone with one hand. 'Later, Neal!'

'There won't be any "later"!' stated Caffrey firmly and went to climb out of the window.

Too bad his so called girlfriend hadn't heard him, being already engrossed in a meaningless chat with her friend.

* * *

The sun had already retired for the day, but the streets were bright as ever. Fake light coming from the men-made billboards was illuminating the crowded square. Signaling cars, voices speaking in different languages and other noises of the city could make anyone's head spin.

Although Neal never considered himself as claustrophobic, the feeling like he was stuck in an elevator, because of all the people and stuffy air, was simply making him sick and nauseous.

'Hey, dude! Take a picture of me an' ma girl here, would ya?' asked a young man a few years older than Neal.

Mumbling something in reply, the teenager took the camera. Taking a few photos of a happy couple, Neal returned the camera, while thinking if their relationship would last long. Was he the only one capable of picking the wrong people to trust? El, Peter, Adler and even Kate! Actually, Neal never trusted Adler, but Kate was a different story…

Not seeing where he was going, Neal lost balance and almost fell down. Luckily, the same guy, who asked to take a picture, caught him.

'Hey, hey, hey! Are ya alright?'

'Yeah, fine. Sorry.'

'Ya need any help? Maybe I should call your folks or something?'

'No, I'm fine. Thanks.'

Ha! Folks! As if! Neal had no "folks". There was not a single soul that would even notice his absence…

Liars, liars, liars! How he hated them all! Something had to be done… How? Doesn't matter… Just need to go, to run…

Neal had no idea where he was going. All he knew that there was no place for him and he had to leave. Walking into a small narrow street, Neal let himself sit on the ground, right under the only street lamp.

How much time passed, no one could tell. Neal was sitting and staring at his own shoes, covered in dust. Suddenly, the boy heard footsteps and a minute later a man was sitting beside him. A long sigh escaped the man's throat. Neal looked up and kept his eyes on the man. That was the only thing he was able to do, although he wanted to say so many things. Neal wanted to scream, shout and tell the man, using the most colourful expressions, all he really thought of him. But words failed him. Every time Neal opened his mouth to speak, a desert covered his lungs and throat. He couldn't even breathe properly, let alone forming normal sentences.

'It's the same street Mozzie drove me through, when we were going to the hospital.' said the man, leaning his head, so now it was resting on the wall.

'How did you… Ah, forget it. It's your job to know.' Neal's voice was hoarse and unsteady as if he participated in a screaming match and after drowned in his own sorrows and regrets.

'Neal, listen…'

'No, Peter. I, and these are your exact words, never listen. Leave me alone. Go home and enjoy your life. I won't be in your way anymore.'

With those words Neal turned away from Peter. Shadows covered his face and that was the only thing the teenager could be grateful for that day. Tears were making their way to the surface. Neal lifted his exhausted eyes up to the dark sky and swallowed a lump in his throat, pushing away the unwanted and needless sign of weakness.

'You have every right to be angry. I know I shouldn't have yelled at you or… hit you…' Peter's voice trembled, but he reined in his emotions and continued.

'When I saw Adler holding a gun… I've never been so scared in my life… I lost it, Neal. I shot him. If I had missed… Oh, God!'

Neal returned his gaze back to the agent. For the first time since he left the office, the teenager had a clear view of Peter. The agent was missing his jacket, his shirt was wrinkled and untucked. The teenager dropped his eyes and that's when he saw it: Peter's arms were shaking.

'We can't lose you, Neal. I can't lose you.'

'You don't know what you're talking about. Peter, you're going to have a child. You will be a happy family…'

'And you are a part of this family.'

At this moment three men appeared from around the corner. Peter's reactions were quick. He shielded Neal with his own body, as one of the robbers took out a knife.

In usual circumstances, the three immature criminals would be no match to the trained FBI agent. But that night Peter was drained both physical and emotionally. Nevertheless, he managed to defend himself and Neal.

'Peter, look out!'

Turning around the agent punched one of the masked guys in the jaw. The robber stumbled and having not noticed Neal, got kicked, falling to the ground. A loud groan made Neal look around.

Two robbers were getting away, while Peter was holding his stomach. In one second Neal was by Peter's side, helping him to lie down. Blood was quickly spreading, colouring the white shirt.

Kneeling beside the agent, Neal called the ambulance. With every passing second Peter's breathing was becoming harder and more uneven. His eyelids were getting heavier…

'Peter… Peter! Don't close your eyes! Don't… Don't leave me! You'll be fine. The doctors are on their way… Just don't…'

Gathering all his strength Peter caught Neal's hand and put it on his chest, under which was his heart, which was not the one to give up that easily.

'Do you feel that, Neal? I would be lucky if that stupid blood pumping organ had stopped if you left. But no. It won't stop. It will break, it will hurt and make the rest of my days a living hell…'

Peter stopped, fighting for his breath. A sharp pain made him moan.

'Don't talk. You're losing your strength. It can wait.' begged Neal.

'It can't wait. If anything happens…'

'It won't… Peter…'

'You are a part of our family. Yes, we're going to have one more child. But that doesn't mean that you will suddenly stop being our kid.'

Peter was getting weaker and his last words were spoken in a whisper.

'We love you. No more silliness, Neal…'

Peter's eyes closed. Neal squeezed his hand, but the agent didn't feel it. Neal screamed his name a dozen times, but Peter never heard it. Neither did he feel the teenager's head on his chest and tears soaking his already wet with sweat and sticky blood shirt.

* * *

Some time later Neal was sitting with Elizabeth at the hospital. El had her arms wrapped around the boy's shoulders. She was scared and was trying to fight back the tears. She had to be strong for Peter, for Neal and herself. She had to be strong for her family.

'El? Is Peter…'

'I don't know, sweetie. I don't know.'

'It's my fault, El. If it wasn't… Elizabeth, I'm so sorry!' said Neal, his voice never raising above whisper.

'It's not your fault, Neal. Those man, who attacked you, are the only people I blame.' replied El, equally quietly.

They continued sitting in silence. Elizabeth was gently stroking Neal's hair, in attempts to provide some comfort. It worked and as Neal closed his eyes, he drifted off. No, he wasn't sleeping…

As for all desperate people, there were only three things left for Neal to do. Wait, hope and pray.

'Mrs. Burke?' asked the doctor, coming up to Elizabeth, who simply nodded and stood up.

'There was a lot of blood lost. I'm truly sorry, but…'

Neal, who was on his feet the moment he saw the doctor, felt how his legs gave away.

Somewhere in the distance he heard El's faint cry and as soon as the world stopped spinning, darkness swallowed Neal. But even this darkness had no power to make Neal forget any of the dreadful details of that fateful day.

They say time heals everything. Maybe so, but even time can't ease off the pain from consequences, given by the cruelest, yet fair teacher – Life. People often ignore other people's advices, they forget the lessons they were taught at school. But not even one person was able to ignore or forget Life's lessons.

Autumn was changed by winter, and summer took over spring's position. Hundreds of days and nights turned into thousands. Happiness, sadness and other everyday emotions accompanied those days. But what happened on one of the most important days in his life, as Neal came to see it, he always carries in his heart.

As time passed, tears got dry, pain and despair subdued, but nothing was forgotten.

As horrific as that day had proved to be there still were some benefits. Neal Caffrey's life motto had changed forever.

Think before you act, because actions have consequences.

More time will pass and Neal will share the story of his life. He will tell, not without tears, about the most dreadful day of his life, but he will also tell about the most important one.

The day when Neal tripped. The day when it all began.

_**The End…?** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! It is the last chapter, BUT there is a huge fat chance for a sequel. It's up for you to decide! Press that button below and leave a review! Come on, it's the final chapter! I don't bite, promise.  
> Also, I will write on my profile if I decide to write a sequel and there will also be a "notification chapter" on this story to inform you.  
> THANK YOU FOR READING!


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